r,  MESS7IGES  y 

k     OF    HOPE     ^A 


GEORGE  M7ITHESON 


tihvavy  of  Che  theological  ^tminavy 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


•a^D- 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  estate  of  the 
R^v.  John  B.  Wie dinger 


BV  4638  .M39  1908 
Matheson,  George,  1842-1906 
Messages  of  hope 


t  ^x    ^^^^^^-;;4^/p^  ^^'yU^e^  L^Ct^^^ 


y 


MESSAGES   OF    HOPE 


BY  GEORGE  MATHESON,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

REPRESENTATIVE  MEN  OF  THE  BIBLE 
SERIES 

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MESSAGES  OF  H< 


Of  PK/A^ 

;8 


GEORGE  MATHESON 

D.D..  LL.D..  F.R.SE. 


cio 


k 


op 


Author  of 

•^THOUGHTS  FOR.  LIFE'S  JOURNEY** 
^LEAVES  FOR.  QUIET  HOURiS* 


cAo 


NEW  YORK 
Qv^Q   A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  &  SON    O^KO 

Y^      3  and  5  WEST  EIGHTEENTH  STREET,  Y 

1908 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

Some  ten  or  twelve  of  the  brief  treatises 
embodied  in  this  book  have  already  appeared  in 
the  pages  of  The  Christian  World.  The  remainder, 
on  the  author's  death,  existed  only  in  the  blind- 
type  characters  which  constituted  his  own  peculiar 
**  Braille."  His  secretary,  however,  has  contrived 
to  render  this  MS.  into  ordinary  copy,  word  for 
word;  and,  at  the  publishers'  request,  the  dis- 
courses are  here  offered  in  collective  form.  They 
represent  some  of  the  ripest  fruit  of  the  author's 
intellect,  as  they  are  largely  the  product  of  his 
latest  hours ;  should  any  one  "  Message "  bring 
"  Hope "  to  the  weary  and  heavy-laden,  George 
Matheson's  latest  labours  will  not  have  been  in 
vain. 

W.  S. 

Edinburgh,  igo8. 


MESSAGES    OF    HOPE 


The  Anniversaries  Kept  in  Heaven 

"  The  Lord  shall  count,  when  He  writeth  up  the  people,  that 
this  man  was  born  in  Zion." — Ps.  lxxxvii.  6. 

I  UNDERSTAND  the  meaning  of  the  passage  to 
be  that  the  anniversaries  of  the  future  will  be 
held  for  the  righteous.  We  observe  at  present 
the  anniversaries  of  the  intellectually  great — of 
the  poet,  of  the  statesman,  of  the  distinguished 
general,  of  the  scientific  discoverer.  But,  without 
disparaging  these,  the  psalmist  looks  forward  to  a 
time  when  the  birthdays  observed  will  be  on  the 
ground  of  goodness.  We  hold  the  natal  days  of 
the  heroes  of  history.  What  a  surprise  it  would 
create  if  it  were  to  be  announced  that  a  com- 
memorative service  was  to  be  held  to  keep  the 
centenary  of  some  humble  woman  historically 
unknown !  And  yet,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  in  the  large  majority  of  cases  the  distinguished 
have  been  indebted  to  the  unknown.  Many  a 
man  who  has  had  his  theatre  in  the  world  has  had 

7 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

his  metropolis  in  the  nursery;  the  crucial  hours 
of  his  life  have  been  the  hours  the  world  never 
saw — the  hours  spent  at  a  mother's  knee  and 
brightened  by  a  mother's  teaching.  Many  a  great 
thinker  has  got  his  wisdom  from  some  obscure 
schoolmaster  "  never  heard  of  half-a-mile  from 
home  " — from  one  who  had  all  the  thought  in  his 
soul  but  just  lacked  the  gift  of  expression.  Many 
a  successful  candidate  for  life's  favour  has  owed 
his  power  of  endurance  to  the  cheering  words  of 
some  optimistic  Christian  who  met  him  at  a  time 
of  despondency  and  prevented  him  from  giving  in. 
Many  a  toiling  wrestler  for  the  cure  of  human 
disease  was  first  taught  to  love  humanity  by 
witnessing  the  holy  patience  of  some  humble 
sufferer  who  bore  without  repining,  who  was 
afflicted  and  murmured  not,  who  carried  the  cross 
and  made  no  sign.  The  man  who  has  reached 
the  top  of  the  mountain  has  been  stimulated  by 
the  cry,  "  Excelsior  "  ;  but  it  has  been  oftener  the 
voice  of  another  than  of  himself.  It  has  come 
from  the  valley,  from  the  place  of  the  lowly,  from 
the  scene  of  the  undistinguished.  The  deeds  of 
silent  sacrifice,  the  homes  of  humble  piety,  the 
acts  of  covert  kindness,  the  words  of  unrecorded 
righteousness,  the  examples  of  unpubfished  purity 
— these  have  been  the  sources  of  human  greatness. 

8 


THE  ANNIVERSARIES  KEPT  IN  HEAVEN 

Lord,  Thou  hast  in  Thy  future  a  place  for  all 
souls;  but  Thy  monuments  are  for  the  men  of 
Zion— the  sons  of  sacrifice.     Thou  hast  a  crown 
for   each   sphere   of  successful   toil ;    but   Thine 
anniversaries  will  be  given  to  the  sowers  of  the 
seed.      We   of  the   present    world    uncover   our 
heads  to  the  flowers  in  their  bloom  and  the  trees 
in    their   foliage.     But   the   bloom   was   not  the 
beginning  of  the  flowers ;  the  foliage  was  not  the 
beginning  of  the  trees.     The  beginning  of  both 
was  underground — in  a  lonely  place,  a  silent  place, 
an  unseen  place.     It  is  on  these  lonely  and  silent 
and  unseen  places  that  Thine  eye  resteth ;  it  is 
there  Thou  lookest  for  the  birthdays  of  the  great, 
I  often  say  in  despair,  "  Is  my  humble  life  worth 
a  future  world  ;  what  have  I  done  for  the  making 
of  this  ?  "     Teach  me,  O  Lord,  the  fallacy  of  my 
thought ;  show  me  that  the  sphere  of  the  humble 
is    ever    the    sphere    where    worlds   are    made ! 
Reveal  to  me  the  future  majesty  of  things  that 
now  seem  poor !     I  would  see,  not  the  crown,  but 
the  cradle,  of  empire — not  the  blossom,  but  the 
bud,  of  dominion.     I  would  see  Shakespeare  in  the 
shell,    Newton    in    the    nursery.    Bacon    in    the 
swaddling  bands.  Homer  at  the  hearth,  Dante  in 
the  day-school,  Milton  at  the  family  meal,  Goethe 
at  his  games,  Plato  in  the  pastimes  of  his  youth. 

9 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE  \ 

] 

Show  me  the  moulders  of  their  early  moments —  j 

the  counsellors  of  their  conduct,  the  framers  of  ^ 

their  faith,  the  architects  of  their  aspiration,  the 
trainers  of  their   tuition,  the   directors   of  their  ; 

desires,  the  partners  in  their  pleasures,  the  leaders 
of  their  leisure  hours  !  Then  shall  I  know  why  it 
is  that  Thy  birthdays  for  the  race  are  those  of  j 

the  men  born  in  Zion.    ^ 


"  i 


The  Grief  that  implies  Glory 

•'  He  began  to  teach  them,  that  the  Son  of  Man  must  suffer 
many  things." — Mark  viii.  31. 

"He  began  to  teach  them."  It  was  indeed  the 
beginning  of  a  new  lesson  for  humanity.  The  old 
lesson  for  humanity  had  been  that  a  "  Son  of 
Man  "  must  suffer  nothing — that  the  higher  the 
life  the  more  exempt  should  it  be  from  pain. 
That  belief  was  embedded  deep  in  the  heart  both 
of  Gentile  and  Jew.  The  Gentile  deified  massive 
strength — strength  on  which  the  woes  of  the 
world  could  make  no  impression  and  which  was 
incapable  of  tears.  The  Jew  exalted  the  sons  of 
the  morning — the  men  who  basked  in  fortune's 
radiant  smile  ;  he  deemed  that  the  most  dowered 
must  be  to  God  the  dearest.  Christianity  began 
to  paint  a  fresh  ideal  of  humanity — an  opposite 
ideal.  It  said  that  the  test  of  a  man's  height  was 
not  his  inabiHty,  but  his  capacity,  to  feel.  "  The 
Son  of  Man  must  suffer  many  things."  It  is  not 
merely  that  He  may,  but  that  He  must.  Suffer- 
ing is  involved  in  the  fact  that  He  is  the  Son  of 

II 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Man — that  He  is  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  If  He 
were  lower  down,  He  would  be  protected.  The 
very  elevation  of  His  person  has  put  Him  in 
collision  with  the  full  sweep  of  the  blast  and  the 
full  coldness  of  the  air.  Remember,  that  was  the 
very  source  of  Christ's  temptation  in  the  wilder- 
ness. The  tempter  said  :  "If  you  are  the  Son  of 
Man,  you  ought  to  enjoy  yourself.  You  should 
have  no  want  of  bread,  no  fear  of  precipices,  no 
dread  of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  their 
glory ;  you  should  live  sumptuously,  walk  reck- 
lessly, reign  despotically."  Christ  reverses  all 
this.  He  says  it  is  just  because  He  is  Son  of  Man 
that  He  is  bound  to  suffer — to  feel  as  a  personal 
hunger  the  world's  want  of  bread,  to  experience  as 
a  personal  fear  the  world's  danger  of  falling,  to 
share  as  a  personal  burden  the  world's  subjection 
to  human  tyrannies.  And  though  He  stands  at 
the  top,  the  principle  is  in  measure  true  for  those 
who  are  climbing.  There  is  a  suffering  which  the 
good  alone  can  know.  There  is  a  furnace  which 
is  only  heated  for  the  man  of  God,  a  den  of  lions 
which  only  awaits  the  holy.  Not  every  eye  can 
weep  over  Jerusalem — that  is  a  Divine  gift  of 
tears.  Men  said  of  Jesus,  "  Let  God  deliver  him 
if  he  delighted  in  him !  " — if  he  is  good,  why  is 
he  so  burdened !     Had    He   been   less  good  He 

12 


THE  GRIEF  THAT  IMPLIES  GLORY 

would  have  been  less  burdened.  His  purity  made 
His  pain;  His  tenderness  made  His  tears;  His 
selflessness  made  His  sorrow ;  His  righteousness 
made  Him  restless;  His  lustre  made  Him  lonely; 
His  kindness  made  Him  kinless ;  His  crown 
made  His  cross.  It  was  because  He  was  the  Son 
of  Man  He  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head. 

Lord,  Thy  pain  can  cure  all  other  pain  ;  let  me 
enter  into  its  secret !  There  is  no  homoeopathy  in 
all  the  world  like  this  by  which  Thy  sorrow 
conquers  mine.  Nothing  but  unselfish  grief  can 
banish  my  selfish  care.  Joy  cannot ;  care  would 
corrupt  it  in  an  hour.  Beauty  cannot ;  life's  dust 
would  dim  it  in  a  day.  Fame  cannot ;  the  weary 
heart  would  wither  it  in  a  night.  Wealth  cannot ; 
the  strength  of  conscious  toil  would  steal  it  from 
my  soul.  But,  if  I  could  get  the  Divine  homoeo- 
pathy, I  should  be  cured.  Thou  canst  bestow  it, 
O  my  God.  Give  me  a  new  care,  and  the  old 
will  die.  Send  me  Thy  weight,  and  I  shall  have 
wings.  Give  me  Thy  cross,  and  I  shall  be 
crowned.  Let  me  hear  the  sigh  of  the  weary, 
and  mine  will  be  silent.  Let  me  lift  the  load  of 
the  poor,  and  mine  will  be  lightened.  Let  me 
carry  the  burden  of  the  weak,  and  mine  will  be 
banished.  Let  me  listen  to  the  murmurs  of  the 
sick,  and  mine  will  be  mute.     Let  me  aid  the  task 

13 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

of  the  toiling,  and  mine  will  be  tearless.  Let  me 
touch  the  hand  of  the  leper,  and  mine  will  be 
healed.  Let  me  help  the  feet  of  the  lame,  and 
mine  will  be  flying.  Let  me  arrest  the  falls  of 
the  tempted,  and  mine  will  be  few.  May  the 
pain  of  the  Son  of  Man  be  my  panacea  for  pain  I 


H 


The  Necessity  of  Faith  to  Morality 

•*  The  just  shall  live  by  his  faith." — Habakkuk  ii.  4. 

Is  not  this  a  singular  statement.  Is  not  the 
just  man — the  man  of  practical  morality — the  last 
man  in  the  world  whom  we  should  expect  to  live 
by  his  faith.  There  are  classes  of  men  whom  we 
should  expect  to  live  by  their  faith.  The  poet 
lives  by  his  faith,  for  he  aspires  after  an  unearthly 
ideal.  The  painter  lives  by  his  faith,  for  there 
floats  before  him  a  superhuman  beauty.  The 
musician  lives  by  his  faith,  for  his  inner  ear 
catches  melodies  which  his  instruments  cannot 
express.  Even  the  husbandman  lives  by  his  faith, 
for  he  commits  the  seed  to  a  life  underground. 
But  the  just  man — the  man  of  practical  morality 
— how  can  he  be  said  to  live  by  his  faith !  Is  he 
not  building  his  trust  upon  definite  outward  acts, 
on  obedience  to  a  command  ?  Yes,  but  whose 
command  ?  To  a  command  which  is  inaudible  to 
the  outer  ear.  The  voice  of  conscience  is  not 
uttered  by  anything  within  the  world.     It  is  not 

15 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

uttered  by  beauty ;  you  may  gaze  on  the  woods 
and  fields  without  hearing  it.  It  is  not  uttered  by 
prudence ;  3'ou  may  study  your  own  interests  for 
days  without  meeting  it.  It  is  not  uttered  by 
law ;  you  may  be  condemned  by  a  criminal  court 
without  receiving  its  message.  This  mysterious 
voice  is  independent  of  places  and  times.  It 
comes  at  the  most  unUkely  moment;  it  fails  to 
come  at  the  most  likely.  It  may  be  absent  during 
the  most  solemn  religious  service ;  it  may  be  heard 
in  the  whirl  of  the  dance  and  in  the  vortex  of  gay 
society.  The  Garden  of  Eden  may  be  deaf  to  it ; 
the  haunts  of  corruption  may  ring  with  it.  It  may 
elude  the  thunder,  the  earthquake,  and  the  fire ; 
it  may  breathe  in  the  still  small  sound  of  a  human 
word.  The  stars  of  night  may  fail  to  declare  it ; 
the  streets  of  the  garish  day  may  resound  with  its 
solemn  refrain.  The  man  who  listens  to  it  is 
walking  by  faith.  It  has  no  mandate  from  the 
world ;  it  has  no  reward  from  the  world ;  it  has  no 
promise  from  the  world.  It  is  a  message  from  an 
unearthly  sphere  sent  for  an  unearthly  reason 
and  accompanied  by  the  offer  of  an  unearthly 
recompense.  No  poet  or  painter  or  musician 
lives  more  by  faith  than  the  man  of  outward 
virtue. 

O  Thou  Voice   Divine,   whose   walking  is  not 
16 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  FAITH  TO  MORALITY 

limited  to  the  cool  of  the  day,  come  into  my 
active  hours  !  Come  where  the  clouds  are 
gathering,  where  the  wheels  of  commerce  roll ! 
Often  does  the  tempter  meet  me  there.  He 
promises  the  kingdoms  and  their  glory  if  I  will  do 
an  unjust  thing.  If  I  look  only  to  human  motives, 
I  shall  follow  the  tempter.  But  my  justice  can 
live  by  faith.  Support  me,  O  Lord,  by  con- 
siderations that  are  not  seen  below  !  Come  where 
competitors  are  thronging,  where  rival  claims 
appear !  Often  does  the  tempter  meet  me  there. 
He  says,  "  Detract  from  your  rival,  and  you  shall 
win ;  throw  mire  on  his  garment,  and  your  own 
will  shine."  And  if  I  walked  by  sight,  I  might 
well  do  so.  But  give  me  faith  to  look  beyond  the 
eye,  to  know  that  man  liveth  not  by  bread  alone  ! 
Come  where  the  gay  are  mustering,  where  society 
selects  the  strongest  for  the  race  !  Often  does  the 
tempter  meet  me  there.  He  says,  "  Attach  your- 
self to  the  highest,  keep  close  to  the  men  of 
power,  avoid  all  contact  with  the  broken  lives." 
And  the  flesh  would  counsel  me  to  obey.  But,  in 
such  an  hour,  let  faith  speak  to  me !  Show  me 
the  beauties  of  the  broken  !  Teach  me  the  possi- 
bilities of  the  poor !  Tell  me  Thy  hopes  for  the 
heavy-laden  !  Send  me  Thy  sigh  for  the  sad ! 
Point  me  to  the  unseen  glory — the  gold  covered 

17  B 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 


by  the  fading  grass,  the  clearness  behind  the  cloud, 
the  mighty  destiny  concealed  in  momentary  dust ! 
Then  shall  I  give  a  hand  to  the  rejected  masses ; 
for  the  charity  killed  by  sight  shall  live  by  the 
power  of  faith. 


z8 


The  Source  of  Christian  Firmness 

"Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  His  might."— 
Eph.  VI.  10. 

"The  power  of  the  might  of  Jesus" — what  a 
phrase  to  break  upon  the  ears  of  the  Roman 
empire !  **  Be  strong  in  the  Lord " — it  must 
have  seemed  the  wildest  of  paradoxes !  To  the 
eye  of  that  Roman  world  the  Lord  of  the  Chris- 
tians was  anything  but  strong.  A  man  of  lowly 
mien,  a  man  of  gentleness,  a  man  that  did  not 
strive  nor  cry,  a  man  that  gave  his  cheek  to  the 
smiters  and  when  he  was  reviled  reviled  not  again 
— it  was  the  last  image  which  we  should  expect  to 
convey  to  Paul's  contemporaries  the  idea  of 
strength.  It  must  have  sounded  to  them  like 
speaking  of  a  square  circle.  We  could  understand 
the  apostle  saying,  "  Be  meek  in  the  Lord,"  "  Be 
patient  in  the  Lord,"  "Be  peaceable  in  the 
Lord";  but  to  point  men  to  Jesus  as  a  specimen 
of  Roman  strength — that  was  strange.  Yet  the 
instinct  which  prompted  it  was  profoundly  true. 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  the  quality  of 

19  B  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Christ's  strength  was  Roman,  for  its  essential 
feature  was  tenacity  of  will.  But  the  strange 
thing  is  that  it  came  to  Him  by  an  opposite  pro- 
cess from  that  by  which  it  reached  the  Roman. 
It  reached  the  Roman  by  a  suppression  of  gentle 
feelings ;  it  reached  the  Son  of  Man  by  a  waking 
of  gentle  feelings.  The  tenacity  of  Christ's  will 
came  from  the  very  fact  that  His  heart  was 
melting  with  love.  The  robust  and  the  senti- 
mental are  usually  considered  opposites  ;  but  it  is 
a  mistake.  Nothing  produces  a  will  of  iron  like  a 
heart  of  wax  ;  it  is  gentleness  that  makes  you  great. 
When  does  the  will  assume  its  iron  tenacity  ?  It 
is  when  the  mind  is  softened  by  a  deep  affection. 
Youth  is  said  to  be  more  unsteady  than  manhood, 
more  wavering  in  resolution,  more  prone  to  be 
tempted.  I  believe  this  to  be  true ;  but  why  is  it 
so  ?  Not  because  youth  is  hotter,  but  because 
youth  has  fewer  softening  ties.  When  love  comes, 
when  home  comes,  when  fatherhood  comes,  when 
the  load  of  responsibilities  is  laid  upon  the  heart, 
then  it  is  that  the  will  becomes  steadfast,  then  it 
is  that  determination  has  the  strength  of  brass. 
That  is  the  strength  of  the  Lord.  It  is  firmness 
grounded  on  feeling ;  it  is  bravery  created  by 
burden  ;  it  is  will  stiffened  by  weightedness.  Paul 
might  well  say,  "  Wherein  I  am  weak  there  I  am 

20 


THE  SOURCE  OF  CHRISTIAN  FIRMNESS 

Strong " ;  for  it  is  the  softening  influences  of 
humanity  that  make  us  undaunted  and  it  is  the 
melting  tenderness  of  love  that  gives  us  power  to 
bear. 

O  Thou  whose  nature  and  whose  name  is  Love, 
come  into  my  heart  that  I  may  be  strong  !  With- 
out Thee  in  my  soul  the  forces  of  life  outmaster 
me.  I  fall  before  the  wind  of  temptation,  I  sink 
beneath  the  sea  of  difficulty.  I  need  Roman 
strength,  but  no  Roman  method  will  give  it  me. 
I  can  only  get  Roman  strength  by  the  method 
un-Roman — by  the  softening  of  the  heart  to  my 
brother's  cry.  Therefore  I  beseech  Thee  to  melt 
the  ice  in  my  soul,  that  the  river  of  Thy  pleasures 
may  flow  there.  I  have  read  that  Samson's 
enemies  sought  to  deprive  him  of  strength  by 
binding  him.  But  Thy  strength  only  comes  to  me 
when  I  am  bound.  It  is  only  when  I  am  encom- 
passed by  the  ties  of  life  that  I  am  really  strong. 
Bind  me,  O  my  God !  Encircle  me  with  many 
bonds !  Put  on  love's  golden  fetters !  Surround 
me  with  a  chain  of  human  responsibilities !  Let 
me  guard  my  life  more  bravely  by  the  sense  that 
it  is  not  free !  In  the  hour  of  temptation  let  me 
remember  that  I  am  not  my  own !  Let  me 
remember  the  lives  that  lean  upon  me !  Let 
me  remember  a   father's   cares   and   a   mother's 

21 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

prayers !  Let  me  remember  the  children  that  cry 
for  bread,  whose  future  I  can  make  or  mar  !  Let 
me  remember  that  my  night  may  cloud  a  brother's 
morning,  my  fall  evoke  a  sister's  tears,  my  blot 
efface  a  bridal  bloom  !  Let  me  remember,  above 
all,  that  I  am  bound  to  outside  souls — that  my 
deed  of  shame  must  make  humanity  poorer,  that 
the  tarnish  on  my  hand  must  dim  a  hundred 
hearts!  The  memory  of  my  ties  will  make 
resistance  strong ;  I  shall  learn  in  love  the  power 
of  Thy  might. 


22 


The  Use  of  Isolated  Moments 

"No  man  shall  come  up  with  thee.**— Ex.  xxxiv.  y 

Here  was  a  Divine  call  to  solitude.  I  should 
have  missed  something  in  the  Bible  if  this  one 
clause  had  been  left  out  of  it.  It  abounds  in  calls 
of  another  sort — exhortations  to  join  the  brother- 
hood of  men.  It  has  calls  to  the  ministry,  calls  to 
the  mission  field,  calls  to  v^^ork,  calls  to  domestic 
duty,  calls  to  public  hfe.  But  there  are  moments 
of  many  souls  in  which  they  are  doomed  to  be 
alone — to  have  no  man  with  them.  The  inspira- 
tions of  genius  are  such  moments ;  the  voices  of 
the  crowd  then  sound  from  afar.  The  throbs  of 
conscience  are  such  moments;  the  heart  then 
speaks  to  itself  alone.  The  arrests  by  sickness 
are  such  moments ;  we  feel  shunted  from  the 
common  way.  The  approaches  of  death  are  such 
moments ;  the  hour  comes  to  all,  but  it  comes 
separately  to  each.  We  should  have  missed  some- 
thing from  the  Bible  if  amid  the  many  voices  of 
God  there  had  been  no  place  found  for  such 
moments  as  these.    But  with  this  verse  of  Exodus 

23 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

before  us,  the  want  is  supplied.     I  learn  that  my 
times  of  solitude  as  well  as  my  days  of  crowded- 
ness  are  a  mission  from  the  Divine.     There  is  a 
lesson  which  my  soul  can  only  get  from  solitude ; 
it  is  the  majesty  of  the  individual.     Society  tells 
me  I  am  only  a  cipher — an  insignificant  drop  in  a 
mighty  stream.     But  when  I  am  alone,  when  the 
curtain  is  fallen  on  my  brother  man,  when  there 
seems  in  the  universe  but  God  and  I,  it  is  then  I 
know  what  it  is  to  be  an  individual  soul ;  it  is  then 
that  there  breaks  on  me  the  awful  solemnity,  the 
dread   responsibility,  the   sublime  weightedness, 
of  having   a  personal  life.     Therefore  it  is  that 
betimes  my  Father  summons  me  into  the  solitude. 
Therefore  it  is  that  betimes  He  calls  me  up  to  the 
lonely  mount  and  cries,  **  Let  no  man  come  with 
thee."     Therefore  it  is  that  betimes  He  shuts  the 
door  on  my  companionships,  and  bars  the  windows 
to  the  street,  and  deafens  the  ear  to  the  world's 
roar.     He  would  have  me  see  myself  by  His  light, 
measure  myself  by  His   standard,  know   myself 
even  as  I  am  kno^n. 

I  thank  Thee,  O  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  con- 
secrated my  solitary  moments.  They  have 
always  been  part  of  my  life,  but  I  looked  on 
them  as  useless  to  Thee.  I  never  really  thought 
them  a  portion  of  Thy  training  till  I  heard  Thy 
24 


THE  USE  OF  ISOLATED  MOMENTS 

voice  calling  to  Moses,  "No  man  shall  come  up 
with  thee."  But  then  it  all  broke  on  me;  and, 
ever  since,  my  isolated  moments  have  been  radiant. 
I  can  never  again  deem  them  outside  Thy  plan. 
Often,  when  my  strength  was  weakened  in  the 
way  and  I  lay  prostrate  on  the  bed  of  pain,  I 
used  to  say,  "  God  has  no  longer  a  place  for  me ; 
my  work  for  Him  is  over."  It  never  dawned  on 
me  that  there  might  be  a  command  to  silence  as 
well  as  to  speech.  But  when  I  heard  that  voice 
of  Thine  to  Moses,  my  wilderness  blossomed  as 
the  rose.  I  ceased  to  say  that  my  service  of  Thee 
had  been  interrupted.  It  had  not  been  inter- 
rupted. My  bed  of  pain  was  in  the  one  room 
which  had  a  mirror;  it  was  there  I  first  saw 
myself,  I  had  seen  my  brother  a  hundred  times ; 
I  had  stood  amid  the  crowd  and  beheld  the  world 
sweep  on.  But,  just  because  there  were  myriads, 
there  was  no  mirror;  just  because  there  was  rush, 
there  was  no  reflection.  There  is  a  stream  in 
whose  waters  no  one  sees  himself — the  stream  of 
fashion.  I  found  no  mirror  till  I  reached  the 
silent  room  and  heard  Thee  shut  the  door  upon 
the  busy  throng.  And  then,  in  that  secluded 
hour,  I  met  my  inmost  soul.  I  saw  my  image 
face  to  face  because  I  was  alone.  I  thought  it 
was  not  mine ;  I  tried  to  disown  it.     I  wrestled 

25 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

with  it  in  the  silent  room ;  I  sought  to  make  it 
call  itself  by  another  name.  But  it  would  not. 
It  said,  "  I  am  thyself — thy  sinful  self,  thine 
unworthy  self."  I  had  never  seen  my  image  at 
the  daybreak,  for  conscience  is  killed  by  the 
crowd ;  but  the  speechless  hour  of  night  made  it 
visible,  and  the  shrunk  sinew  proved  that  it  was 
mine.  I  bless  Thee  for  the  time  in  which  Thou 
saidst,  "  No  man  shall  come  up  with  thee." 


26 


The  Season  for  Divine  Help 

"Jacob  went  on  his  way,  and  the  angels  of  God  met  him."— 
Gen.  XXXII.  i. 

The  important  word  here,  as  I  think,  is  the 
word  "  met."  It  is  distinctly  implied  that  no 
supernatural  help  came  to  Jacob  at  the  beginning. 
He  went  out  on  his  own  way  and  on  the  strength 
of  his  own  resources ;  it  was  only  in  the  middle  of 
his  journey  that  he  encountered  the  angels  of 
God.  And  I  believe  this  is  typical  of  the  hfe  of 
every  man.  We  are  most  of  us  under  a  mistake 
on  this  point.  We  often  see  young  people  waiting 
for  a  special  call  to  some  mission — for  a  manifest 
intervention  of  God  that  says,  **  This  is  the  way ; 
walk  ye  in  it."  I  would  tell  such  that  the  special 
call  does  not  come  at  the  outset ;  they  must  start 
without  it.  There  is  a  great  difference  between 
not  having  a  special  call  to  go  and  having  a 
special  call  not  to  go.  The  latter  case  is  a  very 
common  one,  and  it  should  certainly  be  taken  as 
a  prohibition.  Many  a  man  has  a  family  depen- 
dent on  him  for  bread.     Many  a  woman  has  an 

27 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

aged  mother  to  nurse.  Many  a  youth  has  an 
ancestral  taint  of  delicacy  which  incapacitates  for 
active  service.  All  these  hear  a  voice  which  says, 
**  Do  not  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard."  But  some- 
times a  man  has  no  prohibition,  but  simply  an 
inability  to  see  the  full  length  of  the  way.  In 
extreme  youth  I  was  offered  in  a  crowded  town  an 
appointment  which  involved  weekly  preaching  at 
two  services.  I  had  only  twelve  sermons,  and  I 
did  not  see  where  the  thirteenth  was  to  come 
from.  I  was  tempted  to  decline.  But  I  asked 
myself  the  question,  "Are  you  adequate  to  the 
twelve?"  and  I  answered,  "Yes."  Then  I  said  to 
myself:  "  God's  presence  will  not  reveal  itself  till 
your  own  power  is  exhausted.  He  has  given  you 
twelve  talents  to  begin  with.  Do  not  bury  them, 
do  not  lay  them  up  in  a  napkin  ;  go  in  your  own 
strength  as  far  as  you  can  ;  and  on  the  way  He 
will  meet  you  and  light  your  torch  anew."  The 
experience  was  abundantly  realised — but  I  turn 
aside  from  the  personal.  The  principle  is  as  true 
to  you.  If  there  is  a  multitude  to  be  fed  in  the 
wilderness,  it  is  no  proof  of  your  disqualification 
that  you  have  only  five  loaves.  You  have  five ; 
and  that  is  your  call  to  a  beginning.  You  have 
probably  material  for  ten  people.  Minister  to  the 
ten !  Do  not  let  the  eleventh  frighten  you  before- 
28 


THE  SEASON  FOR  DIVINE  HELP 

hand !  Take  each  case  as  it  comes  !  Break  the 
bread  as  far  as  it  will  go  !  Refuse  to  paralyse 
yourself  by  looking  forward !  Keep  the  eleventh 
man  in  abeyance  until  you  have  come  up  to  him ; 
and  then  the  angels  will  meet  you  with  their 
twelve  baskets,  and  the  crowd  will  greet  you  with 
their  blessings,  and  the  limit  will  expand  into  an 
overflow. 

Lord,  free  me  from  the  dread  of  to-morrow ! 
I  have  often  heard  it  said  of  a  man,  **  He  sank 
beneath  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day."  I  do 
not  think  that  is  the  real  experience  of  life.  I 
have  never  found  insupportable  the  burden  and 
heat  of  the  day ;  Thou  hast  never  made  that  too 
strong  for  any  man.  No,  my  Father,  it  is  the 
burden  and  heat  of  to-morrow  that  overwhelm  the 
traveller.  Not  by  the  load  of  present  weights  but 
by  the  sense  of  weights  to  come,  do  we  fall.  There 
are  not  more  drops  in  my  Gethsemane  cup  than  I 
can  bear ;  but  in  looking  into  that  cup  I  see  the 
shadow  of  something  which  seems  7^?ibearable — 
to-morrow.  I  would  say  with  reverence,  **  Father, 
let  every  cup  pass  from  me  except  the  cup  of  each 
hour !  "  Veil  from  me  the  vision  of  to-morrow's 
fear  ;  nay,  let  me  myself  veil  it !  Let  me  refuse 
to  look  at  it  until  the  hour  has  come  !  Let  me 
decline  to  measure  my  strength  with  a  day  which 

29 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

has  not  dawned!  I  can  measure  my  strength 
with  yesterday,  for  yesterday  is  past  and  my 
strength  for  it  is  chronicled.  But  my  strength 
for  to-morrow  is  as  much  in  the  future  as 
to-morrow  itself;  it  does  not  yet  appear  what  it 
shall  be.  Let  me  wait  for  it,  O  Lord !  Let  me 
close  the  shutters  against  the  threatened  cloud ! 
Men  tell  me  that  in  the  midst  of  the  way  I  shall 
meet  the  storm  and  the  roar  and  the  battle ;  but 
they  forget  that  in  the  midst  of  the  way  I  shall 
meet  also  Thy  ministering  angels. 


30 


Christian  Manliness 

"Quit  you  like  men." — i  Cor.  xvi.  13. 

At  first  sight  we  might  say  that  these  words 
were  spoken  to  the  Christian  adult.  That  is  not 
my  view.  To  whom  are  we  in  the  habit  of  saying, 
**  Quit  you  like  men  "  ?  Is  it  to  grown-up  people  ? 
No,  it  is  to  children.  Our  stimulus  is  always  the 
stage  beyond  us.  The  Boys'  Brigade  is  an  imitation 
of  the  Man's  Brigade  and  would  have  no  interest 
on  any  other  footing.  The  girl's  doll  is  an  imita- 
tion of  the  woman's  child  and  would  have  no 
charm  on  any  other  basis.  The  very  games  of 
childhood  are  intended  to  represent  the  competitive 
struggles  in  the  game  of  life.  It  is  to  mental 
children  that  Paul  means  to  speak  when  he  says, 
"  Quit  you  like  men."  But  it  is  to  be  feared  that 
a  child's  idea  of  a  man  is  a  very  mistaken  one.  It 
often  looks  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  prospect 
of  "  grown-up-ness,"  but  it  is  on  the  ground  that 
the  stage  of  manhood  will  be  a  stage  of  increased 
independence.     "When  I  am  grown  up,  I  shall  do 

31 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

as  I  like,"  is  the  utterance  of  many  a  child.  Yet 
the  actual  process  is  exactly  in  the  reverse  ratio. 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  the  man  differs 
from  the  child  precisely  in  the  fact  that  he  has  less 
power  than  the  child  of  doing  what  he  likes.  The 
child  receives  many  prohibitions,  but  they  are 
nearly  all  from  the  outside  ;  the  man  has  fewer 
prohibitions  from  the  outside,  but  he  has  many 
more  from  within.  The  advance  from  childhood 
to  manhood  is  an  advance  from  less  to  greater 
dependence,  from  a  will  more  free  to  a  will  more 
circumscribed  and  bounded.  The  boy  has  less 
restraint  than  the  man.  A  hundred  voices  tempt 
young  Adam  to  the  forbidden  fruit  which  to  the 
mature  mind  cry,  "Thou  shalt  not."  Young 
Adam  feels  free  when  he  has  hid  himself  among 
the  trees  of  the  garden.  But  the  mature  mind 
does  not  feel  liberated  by  the  overshadowing  trees ; 
he  has  restraint  from  within.  Conscience  cries 
"  No  "  ;  principle  cries  "  No  "  ;  prudence  cries 
"No";  love  cries  "No";  common  interest  cries 
"  No."  It  is  the  man  and  not  the  child  that  is 
boiyid  by  the  cherubim  and  flaming  sword.  The 
manliest  will  is  the  will  that  is  least  free.  Child- 
hood leaps  through  the  plots  of  paradise  and 
crushes  them  as  it  goes  ;  manhood  tries  to  do  the 
same,  but  the  ties  of  myriad  hearts  impede  the 
32 


CHRISTIAN  MANLINESS 

wayward  limbs  and  say  to  the  mature  spirit,  *'  We 
will  not  let  thee  go." 

Son  of  Man,  Thou  who  hast  come  to  tell  our 
human  childhood  what  it  is  to  be  full-grown,  help 
us  to  gaze  on  Thee  !  Help  us  to  look  on  Thee  till 
we  are  changed  into  the  same  image  !  We  should 
like,  we  children  of  time,  to  be  impregnated  with 
the  belief  that  the  object  of  being  full-grown  is  not 
to  do  what  one  likes  but  to  learn  the  bending  of 
the  will.  -We  should  like  to  be  inspired  with  the 
thought  that  the  highest  standard  of  manhood  is 
not  empire  but  service,  not  independence  but 
brotherhood,  not  self-will  but  self-surrender. 
That  is  Thine  image,  O  Son  of  Man  ;  let  me  grow 
up  to  Thee !  Destroy  my  childhood's  ideal  of  a 
false  manhood  !  Destroy  my  admiration  of  self- 
will  ! — Thy  mission  was  to  do  the  will  of  Thy 
Father.  Destroy  my  admiration  of  masterfulness  ! 
— Thy  mission  was  to  minister.  Destroy  my 
admiration  of  those  who  say,  "  I  do  not  care  "  ! — 
on  Thee  were  the  cares  of  a  world.  Destroy  my 
admiration  of  an  immovable  heart ! — Thou  hast 
wept  over  Jerusalem  and  over  Bethany.  Destroy 
my  admiration  of  solitary  grandeur  ! — Thou  hast 
prayed  that  all  may  be  one  with  Thyself.  Teach 
me  the  manliness  of  ministration,  the  heroism  of 
helpfulness,  the  sovereignty  of  serving,  the  lordship 

33  c 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

of  loneliness,  the   kinghood  of  compassion,   the  j 
strength  of  stooping,  the  sceptre  of  unselfishness, 

the  crown  of  crucifixion,  the  empire  expressed  in  ■ 

the    epitaph,    "  He    saved    others ;    himself    he  j 

cannot  save  1 "    Then  shall  I  know  what  it  is  to  j 

be  a  man.  ! 


34 


The  Lesson  of  Siloam 

"  He  anointed  the  eyes  of  the  blind  man  with  the  clay  and 
said,  Go,  wash  in  the  pool  of  Siloam.  He  went  his  way  there- 
fore, and  washed,  and  came  seeing." — John  ix.  6,  7. 

Even  in  the  unique  Gospel  of  Christ  the  cure 
of  this  blind  man  is  a  unique  thing.  There  is  to 
my  mind  a  peculiarity  about  it  which  separates  it 
from  every  other  work  of  Jesus.  The  singular 
feature  is  not  the  anointing  of  the  eyes  with  clay, 
for  the  clay  was  after  all  administered  by  the 
Master's  hand.  But  the  remarkable  thing  is  that 
Jesus  sends  the  man  away  from  Himself  to  be 
cured,  **  Go,  wash  in  the  pool  of  Siloam."  It  is 
not  in  coming  from  the  hands  of  Jesus  but  in 
coming  from  the  waters  of  Siloam  that  the  scales 
fall  from  his  eyes.  The  waters  of  Siloam  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it;  yet  Christ  wishes  these 
earthly  fountains  to  get  the  credit  of  His  own 
work.  It  is  not  the  use  of  means  that  strikes  us, 
but  the  fact  that  the  means  are  employed  by  a 
subordinate  agency  which  has  no  immediate  con- 
tact with  the  Great  Healer.  Why  did  Christ  on 
this  occasion  credit  another  agency  with  His  own 
work  ?     I  think  it  was  to  tell  the  world  that  His 

35  c  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

cures  should  in  future  be  committed  to  common- 
place influences.  Remember,  this  was  His  last 
miraculous  healing  of  disease.  Could  anything 
be  more  appropriate  than  to  indicate  the  point  of 
transition  to  the  new  era !  Was  it  not  equivalent 
to  saying,  **  In  future  my  work  for  you  will  be 
taken  by  the  ophthalmist;  learn  to  see  in  the 
ophthalmist  a  power  which  I  have  ordained "  ! 
Our  Lord  wishes  us  to  feel  that  it  is  by  His 
sending,  by  His  design,  by  His  Gospel,  that 
secular  streams  have  acquired  their  healing 
strength.  His  latest  cure  of  disease  is  a  transition 
from  grace  to  nature.  *'  Go,  wash  in  the  pool  of 
Siloam  ;  use  at  my  command  the  materials  which 
earth  provides.  Hitherto  I  have  healed  with  my 
own  hand  ;  henceforth  I  send  to  be  healed.  I  send 
dimmed  eyes  to  the  oculist,  curtained  ears  to  the 
aurist,  broken  limbs  to  the  surgeon,  fevered  pulses 
to  the  infirmary,  diseased  organs  to  the  hospital, 
fading  strength  to  the  summer  breezes.  I  commit 
my  feeding  to  the  economist,  my  healing  to  the 
physician,  my  cleansing  to  the  pastor,  my 
enlightening  to  the  schoolmaster,  my  charity  to 
the  philanthropist,  my  fallen  ones  to  the  district 
visitor,  my  care  of  children  to  the  mothers  in 
Israel.  This  is  the  bequeathing  of  my  last  will 
and  testament." 

36 


THE  LESSON  OF  SILOAM 

Lord,  let  me  carry  into  modern  life  the  symbol 
of  Thy  latest  cure  1  I  have  been  sent  from  Thy 
presence  to  the  pool  of  Siloam — the  stream  of 
natural  forces.  Never  let  me  forget  that  it  is  Thy 
sending !  Never  any  more  let  me  call  Siloam 
secular !  All  my  modern  springs  of  healing  have 
issued  from  Thee.  It  is  to  Thee  I  owe  man's  ever- 
ripening  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  the  human 
frame.  Men  nev^r  nursed  the  body  till  they  saw 
it  glorified  in  Thy  resurrection  light.  Thou  hast 
magnified  this  house  in  which  I  dwell,  and  now  it 
is  a  glory  to  sweep  its  rooms.  It  is  since  Thy 
coming  that  we  have  learned  the  art  of  mitigating 
pain.  It  is  Thou  that  hast  lit  the  night-lamp  of 
the  nursing  home.  It  is  Thou  that  hast  brought 
the  uniform  for  the  infirmary  ward.  It  is  Thou 
that  hast  ensured  shelter  to  the  convalescent  and 
comfort  to  the  incurable.  It  is  Thou  whose  out- 
stretched arms  have  suggested  an  abode  for  the 
foundling.  It  is  Thou  that  hast  given  us  the 
house  of  refuge  for  the  destitute.  It  is  Thou  that 
hast  initiated  our  help  to  the  superannuated  and 
the  aged.  It  is  Thou  that  hast  opened  our  sym- 
pathies to  the  toilworn  and  the  weary.  The  pool 
of  Siloam  had  little  water  in  it  till  the  rain 
descended  from  Thee ;  our  springs  have  been 
nourished  by  the  dayspring  from  on  high. 

37 


The  Secret  of  Christ's  Easter  Glory 

"  Remember  that  Jesus  Christ  of  the  seed  of  David  was  raised 
from  the  dead  according  to  my  gospel." — 2  Tim.  ii.  8. 

I  THINK  the  meaning  of  this  passage  has  been 
lost  from  the  want  of  italics.  I  take  the  emphatic 
clause  to  be,  "  from  the  dead.''  All  admitted  that 
Christ  was  **  raised  " ;  but  there  was  a  sect  of 
heretics  who  denied  that  He  was  raised  from  the 
dead.  Their  theory  was  that  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross  the  Divine  Christ  flew  away  and  left  only 
the  man  Jesus  to  suffer.  According  to  this  view, 
the  Lord's  triumph  lay  in  cheating  His  enemies ; 
they  thought  they  were  crucifying  the  Messiah, 
whereas  they  were  only  crucifying  the  human  life 
to  which  the  Messiah  had  united  Himself.  By 
this  theory  these  heretics  thought  they  were 
honouring  the  Master.  It  seemed  a  grander 
thing  to  think  that  He  had  escaped  dying  than 
that  He  had  been  raised  from  death.  Paul  differs 
from  them.  He  says,  **  Your  Gospel  is  not  mine ; 
according  to  my  Gospel,  Jesus  Christ  was  raised, 
not  from  the  hour  of  peril,  but  from  the  grave 

38 


THE  SECRET  OF  CHRIST'S  EASTER  GLORY 

itself,  and  His  triumph  was  not  the  evading  but 
the  vanquishing  of  death."  Why  does  Paul  deem 
it  a  greater  triumph  in  Christ  to  have  risen  from 
the  dead  than  to  have  escaped  death  ?  He 
would  have  answered,  "  Because  the  raising  from 
the  grave  made  Him  cease  to  be  local — broke  the 
line  of  His  earthly  ancestry."  He  tells  us  that 
Christ  was  born  the  son  of  David — the  scion  of  the 
royal  race  of  a  particular  country.  If  the  matter 
had  ended  there,  Paul  would  have  regretted  the 
Hmitation.  And  he  would  have  been  right.  If 
Jesus  had  been  raised  to  Heaven  without  dying, 
He  would  have  been  to  the  world  only  the 
representative  of  royal  blood  in  one  of  the  ancient 
nations.  But  to  rise  from  the  dead  was  to  be  born 
anew — born,  no  longer  from  the  Jewish  diadem, 
but  from  the  general  dust.  The  life  that  came 
forth  on  Easter  Morning  was  not  a  life  from  the 
seed  of  David.  It  had  no  more  to  do  with  David 
than  with  Cyrus  or  Solon.  It  had  broken  the 
connection  with  its  past.  Who  shall  declare  its 
generation  ?  Who  shall  say  that  it  was  descended 
from  the  tribe  of  Judah  or  even  from  the  stock  of 
Abraham  ?  It  was  not.  It  was  neither  Jewish 
nor  Greek  nor  Roman.  It  was  a  new  life  from 
an  unprecedented  stem — a  life  even  without  virgin 
mother — a  life  fresh  from  God.      Partiality  was 

39 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

gone,  nationality  was  gone,  special  Messiahship 
was  gone.  Christ  had  become  a  cosmopolitan 
possession,  and  the  cosmopolitan  Paul  clapped 
his  hands. 

And  shall  not  I,  too,  rejoice,  O  Lord  !  Shall  I 
not  be  glad  that  the  resurrection  life  has  broken 
the  limits  of  Thy  birth-life  !  No  longer  need  I 
think  of  Thee  as  a  child  of  a  royal  earthly  line ; 
the  breath  with  which  Easter  Morn  inspired  Thee 
accepts  no  human  lineage.  No  longer  need  I  view 
Thee  as  a  son  of  Israel ;  the  breath  with  which 
Easter  Morn  inspired  Thee  is  above  principalities 
and  powers.  No  longer  need  I  look  up  to  Thee 
as  the  glorifier  of  a  chosen  people ;  the  breath 
with  which  Easter  Morn  inspired  Thee  glorified 
the  common  dust.  Thy  birth  at  Bethlehem 
narrowed  Thee;  it  swathed  Thee  in  bands;  it 
made  Thee  the  Messiah  of  a  special  race,  the 
reformer  of  a  special  time.  But  Thy  birth  on 
Easter  Morn  released  Thee ;  it  loosed  Thy  bonds  ; 
it  set  Thee  free.  No  trammels  of  race  enchained 
Thy  resurrection  life.  The  line  of  David  faded  ; 
the  tribe  of  Judah  faded ;  the  stock  of  Abraham 
faded.  Palestine  vanished  from  our  view ;  temple 
services  were  swept  from  our  sight ;  priest  and 
Levite  met  our  gaze  no  more.  Before  Thee  stood 
man — man  universal,  man  of  all  ages,  man  of  all 
40 


THE  SECRET  OF  CHRIST'S  EASTER  GLORY 

climes.  The  bells  of  Bethlehem  called  the 
shepherds  of  Judah ;  but  the  bells  of  Easter  call 
the  sons  of  men.  Thou  art  now  neither  Jew  nor 
Gentile;  Thou  art  human.  We  hail  Thee  no 
more  as  son  of  David  but  as  Son  of  Man.  We 
crown  Thee  no  more  as  Israel's  Messiah  but  as 
Humanity's  Saviour.  We  worship  Thee  no  more 
as  the  ruler  of  the  seed  of  Jacob  but  as  the  Judge 
and  Arbiter  of  the  Kingdom  of  God. 


41 


The  Place  for  Christian  Asceticism 

"  Strait  is  the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto 
life." — Matt.  vii.  14. 

Is,  then,  the  religious  life  narrow?  Our  Lord 
does  not  say  so ;  He  says  exactly  the  reverse — 
that  it  is  only  the  entrance  into  it  that  is  narrow. 
I  have  seen  a  commodious  vehicle  with  a  very 
narrow  door ;  when  once  you  got  in  you  could 
travel  with  comfort  over  vast  ground,  but  the 
getting  in  was  a  little  embarrassing.  You 
must  not  imagine  that  the  straitenedness  of 
which  our  Lord  speaks  lies  in  the  vehicle; 
it  lies  outside  the  vehicle — in  yourself.  His 
thought,  as  I  take  it,  might  be  expressed  thus : 
"  You  are  entering  a  chariot  with  boundless 
capacities  for  travel.  The  one  obstacle  is  the 
getting  in,  and  that  obstacle  lies  in  you.  You 
have  something  in  your  hand  which  prevents  you 
from  finding  the  door  wide  enough ;  it  is  a  mirror 
in  which  you  see  yourself  reflected.  You  will 
never  get  through  the  aperture  along  with  your 
mirror  ;  it  is  too  narrow  for  both  of  you  together. 
Throw  aside  your  self-reflector ;  break  it ;  leave  it 
42 


THE  PLACE  FOR  CHRISTIAN  ASCETICISM 

in  fragments  on  the  causeway  ;  and,  entering  into 
the  chariot  free  from  encumbrances,  you  will 
journey  over  a  limitless  plain."  That  is  in  spirit 
what  I  understand  Christ  to  mean.  His  motive  is 
not  the  restraint  but  the  enlargement  of  the  soul. 
He  has  provided  for  it  a  conveyance  with  immense 
travelling  powers;  its  name  is  Love,  and  its 
synonym  is  not  narrowness,  but  wideness.  Unfortu- 
nately, the  soul  has  a  mirror  whose  name  is 
Selfishness ;  it  dandles  that  mirror,  it  will  not  let 
it  go.  But  if  the  soul  would  enter  the  chariot  it 
must  let  the  mirror  go.  The  door  is  big  enough 
for  itself  alone,  but  not  big  enough  for  the  accom- 
paniment of  its  looking-glass.  If  it  would  enjoy 
the  chariot  it  must  sacrifice  the  looking-glass.  In 
the  interest  of  wide  locomotion,  in  the  interest  of 
extensive  sight-seeing,  in  the  interest  of  reaching 
a  road  from  which  all  barriers  will  be  removed, 
the  mirror  must  be  left  behind.  That  must  be 
crucified  which  narrows  me ;  that  must  be  sacri- 
ficed which  impedes  me ;  that  must  be  amputated 
which  prevents  me  from  soaring  on  the  wing. 

Thou,  who  art  complaining  of  the  restraints  of 
Christianity,  I  would  ask  you  one  question:  To 
whom  are  the  flowers  of  life  denied  ?  Is  it  to 
thee  ?  No,  it  is  to  thy  mirror.  Thou  lookest  in  the 
glass  and  sayest  to  thine  own  image,  "  How  grand  it 

43 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

would  be  to  have  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and 
the  glory  of  them ;  how  honoured  thou  wouldst 
be,  how  lauded  thou  wouldst  be,  how  attractive 
thou  wouldst  be  ;  no  other  would  be  equal  to 
thyself  in  all  the  earth  !  "  And  God  says,  "  Thou 
art  asking  the  kingdoms  for  thy  mirror — for  thine 
own  glory  ;  that  is  sin,  that  is  sacrilege ;  thy  gate 
must  be  straitened,  thy  way  must  be  narrowed." 
Wherefore,  my  brother,  does  thy  God  so  speak  ? 
Is  it  because  the  flowers  would  make  thee  wicked  ? 
Nay,  it  is  because  thou  wouldst  make  the  flowers 
wicked.  The  egotism  of  thy  touch  would  pollute 
them.  Wealth  is  not  bad  till  it  glorifies  thy 
mirror,  till  thou  sayest  with  triumph,  "  I  am 
exalted  above  my  fellows."  God  would  fain 
redeem  thee  from  finding  wealth  a  corruption. 
God  would  make  wealth  to  thee  a  good  thing;  He 
would  make  thee  fit  to  leave  the  desert  and  come 
into  the  city.  He  would  make  possible  to  thee 
the  use  of  earthly  gems.  The  world  can  be  thine 
when  thou  art  Christ's — when  thou  lovest  not  self 
but  man.  Are  thy  life-roses  superior  to  those  of 
others ;  view  it  not  with  triumph,  but  with  pain  ! 
Rest  not  till  thou  hast  shared  thy  roses !  Haste 
to  distribute  thy  gold !  Be  eager  to  diffuse  thy 
treasures  !  Let  thy  superiority  oppress  thee  !  Let 
thine  exclusive  privilege  torture  thee!     Let  thy 

44 


THE  PLACE  FOR  CHRISTIAN  ASCETICISM 

height  above  thy  brother  humble  thee !  Let  thy 
larger  share  be  a  burden  on  thy  heart  and  give 
thee  no  sleep  till  thou  hast  equalised  thy  posses- 
sion !  The  world  shall  itself  become  thy  Christian 
chariot  when  thy  mirror  has  been  broken. 


45 


The  Heart's  Obstruction  to  the  Hearer 

«'  They  hearkened  not  unto  Moses  for  anguish  of  spirit,  and 
for  cruel  bondage." — Ex.  vi.  9. 

It  is  not  always  the  fault  of  a  preacher  that  his 
message  does  not  go  home.  We  sometimes  say 
that  a  minister  is  speaking  above  the  heads  of  his 
audience ;  if  so,  he  is  in  error.  But  there  is 
another  possibility  of  failure,  and  one  for  which 
he  is  not  to  blame  ;  he  may  speak  above  the  hearts 
of  his  audience.  His  message  may  be  as  clear  as 
crystal,  as  eloquent  as  Demosthenes,  and  as 
beautiful  as  **  the  feet  upon  the  mountains,"  and  yet 
it  may  fall  utterly  flat  because  the  spirits  of  the 
hearer  are  flat.  This  latter  case  is  the  case  before 
us.  "  They  hearkened  not  unto  Moses  for 
anguish  of  spirit,  and  for  cruel  bondage."  There 
never  was  a  better  preacher,  there  never  was  a 
more  joyous  message  ;  but  there  was  a  weight  at 
the  heart  of  the  hearer.  There  was  a  stone  at  the 
door  of  the  sepulchre  which  prevented  the  voice 

46 


THE  HEART'S  OBSTRUCTION  TO  THE  HEARER 

from  penetrating  inside.  You  will  observe,  there 
were  two  impediments  in  the  heart — a  positive 
and  a  negative  barrier — a  sense  of  anguish  and  a 
sense  of  bondage.  These  often  exist  separately. 
There  are  some  who  are  the  victims  of  a  definite 
sorrow ;  they  have  a  special  cause  of  grief  which 
blocks  the  door  of  the  heart  and  will  let  no 
message  of  comfort  enter  in.  There  are  others, 
again,  who,  without  being  able  to  point  to  a 
special  sorrow,  are  simply  conscious  of  a  chain 
about  the  spirit ;  they  have  an  oppression  all 
round,  a  nameless  weight  which  will  not  let  them 
soar.  I  know  not  which  is  more  deterrent  to  a 
message  —  the  anguish  or  the  bondage  —  the 
poignant  grief  in  a  single  spot  or  the  dull  pain  all 
over.  Either  is  incompatible  with  the  hearing 
of  a  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

But  how  shall  I  get  rid  of  these,  O  my  Father ! 
Can  I  say  to  my  sad  spirit,  "  Soul,  take  thine  ease, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  "  !  I  cannot.  No  human 
heart  in  the  days  of  its  chaos  can  give  the  com- 
mand to  itself,  "  Let  there  be  light !  "  How,  then, 
shall  I  lift  the  stone  from  the  door  of  the 
sepulchre,  that  the  angel  of  peace  may  enter  in ! 
Can  I  say  it  is  summer  when  it  is  winter !  No, 
my  Father,  Thou  wouldst  not  have  me  say  that. 
But  Thou  wouldst  have  me  forget,  not  the  winter, 

47 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

but  my  winter.  Thou  wouldst  have  me  remember 
that  there  are  thousands  Hke  me,  thousands  feeling 
the  same  anguish,  thousands  bearing  the  same 
bondage.  Thou  wouldst  not  bid  me  ignore  the 
night,  but  Thou  wouldst  have  me  remember  that 
I  watch  not  there  alone.  Is  Peter  weighted 
in  the  Garden ;  Thou  wouldst  have  him  call  to 
mind  that  James  and  John  are  also  there.  Thou 
wouldst  have  him  watch  for  one  hour  by  the 
burden  of  James  and  John.  Thou  wouldst  have  him 
bury  his  own  beneath  the  soil  till  he  has  returned 
from  his  mission  of  sympathy.  Thou  wouldst 
have  him  forget  awhile  the  place  where  it  was 
lying.  Instead  of  crying,  "Who  shall  support  me 
now  upon  life's  stormy  sea  !  "  Thou  wouldst  have 
him  say,  "  Who  now  shall  make  James  a  son  of 
thunder!  " — *'  Who  now  shall  pillow  John  upon  a 
bosom  of  rest !  "  Then  after  the  night  watches 
Thou  wouldst  have  him  go  back  to  disinter  his 
burden.  Thou  wouldst  have  him  turn  up  the 
soil  to  uncover  the  spot  of  the  burial.  He  will 
cry,  "  My  burden  has  been  stolen  in  the  night  ; 
the  place  where  I  laid  it  is  vacant  ;  I  left  it  here, 
and  it  is  here  no  more ;  come,  see  the  place 
where  my  grief  lay  !  "  So,  my  Father,  shall  he 
find  rest — rest  in  Thy  love.  Thy  self-forgetfulness 
will  make  him  free.     Thy  Cross  will  crucify  his 

48 


THE  HEARTHS  OBSTRUCTION  TO  THE  HEARER 

pain.  Thy  burden  will  break  his  yoke.  Thy 
sorrow  will  still  his  complaining.  He  will  lose  his 
own  suffering  in  fellowship  with  Thine ;  he  whom 
the  Lamb  leads  to  sympathetic  fountains  gets  all 

tears  wiped  from  the  eyes. 

i 


49 


The  Significance  of  the  Burial  of  Moses 

"  And  God  buried  him  in  a  valley  of  the  land  of  Moab ;  but  no 
man  knoweth  of  his  sepulchre  unto  this  day." — Deut.  xxxiv.  6. 

I  HAVE  often  put  to  myself  the  question : 
Suppose  this  fragment  of  the  Bible  had  been  lost, 
should  we  drop  any  flower  from  the  garland  of 
revelation  ?  I  think  we  should.  I  think  there  is 
one  thing  revealed  here  which  is  quite  unique  and 
which  is  planted  here  alone  ;  I  mean  the  fact  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  burial  by  God,  Some  of 
the  deepest  distresses  of  bereavement  come  from 
the  denial  of  funeral  rites.  Where  the  body  is 
buried  in  the  mine,  where  the  body  is  engulfed  in 
the  sea,  where  the  body  is  stretched  on  the  battle- 
field indistinguishable  amid  the  mutilated  slain, 
there  is  a  deeper  tone  added  to  the  heart's  knell. 
It  is  a  note  which  Christianity  has  rather  increased 
than  diminished,  for  the  doctrine  of  resurrection 
has  consecrated  the  body  and  made  its  very  dust 
dear.  To  such  a  state  of  mind  what  comfort  this 
passage  brings !  Here  is  an  explorer  lost  in  the 
mountain  snow.  His  friends  know  he  is  dead; 
50 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  BURIAL  OF  MOSEb 

and  it  adds  to  their  pain  that  no  human  lips  have 
consecrated  his  dust.  And  to  them  there  comes 
this  voice :  Ye  that  weep  for  the  unfound  dead,  ye 
that  lament  the  burial  rites  denied,  know  ye  not 
that  there  are  graves  which  are  consecrated  by 
God  alone !  Where  the  prayer  is  breathed  not, 
where  the  Book  is  opened  not,  where  the  wreath 
is  planted  not,  where  the  human  tear  is  shed  not, 
there  may  be  a  burial  of  unsullied  solemnity — a 
burial  by  the  hand  of  your  Father.  There  are 
consecrated  graves  where  priest  never  stood, 
where  mourner  never  knelt,  where  tear  never 
fell.  There  are  spots  hallowed  by  your  Father 
which  to  you  are  barren  ground.  God's  acre  is 
larger  than  the  churchyard.  Out  on  yon  bleak 
hillside  He  wrapped  your  friend  to  rest  in  a  mantle 
of  spotless  snow.  Is  not  that  bleak  hillside  God's 
acre  evermore  !  Is  it  not  as  holy  to  you  as  if  you 
had  brought  sweet  spices  to  the  tomb  !  It  has  no 
chant  but  the  winds,  no  book  but  the  solemn 
silence,  no  bell  but  some  wild  bird's  note,  no 
wreath  but  the  wreath  of  snow ;  yet  there  is  no 
more  sacred  spot  in  all  the  diocese  of  God. 

My  soul,  hast  thou  pondered  this  picture  of 
God's  care  for  the  human  dust !  There  is  no 
brighter  picture  in  the  Bible.  I  have  heard  thee 
ask,    Where    does    the    Old    Testament     teach 

51  D  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

immortality?  I  have  seen  thee  search  the 
records  for  traces  of  the  resurrection  life.  Thou 
hast  stood  beside  the  ascending  Enoch.  Thou 
hast  watched  the  disappearing  Elijah.  Thou  hast 
listened  to  the  song  of  the  psalmist,  "  Thou  wilt 
receive  me  into  glory."  Thou  hast  gazed  upon 
the  spectre  of  the  dead  Samuel  rising  from  the 
grave  to  renovate  the  kingdom.  But  methinks 
all  these  pale  before  one  neglected  incident — the 
solicitude  of  the  Father  for  the  burial  of  a  human 
body.  '^  God  buried  him."  Thinkest  thou  He 
would  have  cared  for  the  inanimate  clay  if  He 
care  not  for  thee  !  Thinkest  thou  He  would  have 
prepared  a  place  for  the  casket  if  He  had  no  place 
for  the  gem !  Why  should  He  hold  the  dust  ot 
Moses  dear  if  He  had  obliterated  his  spirit!  Why 
cherish  the  garment  if  He  had  chilled  the  life  ! 
Why  preserve  the  ring  if  He  had  pulverised  the 
hand  !  Why  water  the  ground  if  He  had  withered 
the  flower!  Why  keep  the  dwelling  if  He  had 
killed  the  tenant !  Why  crown  the  lifeless  form 
if  He  had  crushed  the  living  man !  O  my  soul, 
when  Enoch  grows  pale  to  thy  sight,  when  Elijah 
fades  from  thine  eyes,  when  the  song  of  the 
psalmist  is  faint  in  thine  ear,  when  the  image  of 
Samuel  refuses  to  rise,  come  and  attend  the 
funeral  of  Moses! 

52 


The  Necessity  of  Selflessness  to  Charity 

"  Thy  righteousness  shall  go  before  thee  ;  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shall  be  thy  rearward." — Isa.  lviii.  8. 

I  THINK  this  passage  has  quite  a  different 
meaning  from  another  on  which  I  have  elsewhere 
commented — "The  God  of  Israel  will  be  your 
rearward."  This  latter  passage  signifies  that  God 
will  retrieve  our  past.  But  the  words  now  before 
us  are  to  my  mind  not  a  promise  but  a  command. 
This  whole  chapter  is  an  exhortation  to  charity. 
The  prophet  is  urging  men  to  deeds  of  minis- 
tration— to  sympathy  with  the  poor,  compassion 
for  the  sorrowful,  help  for  the  needy.  He  says 
that  such  a  life  of  sacrifice  is  of  more  value  than 
the  keeping  of  sacred  days  or  the  attendance  at 
holy  festivals.  But  he  says  that  even  this  life  of 
sacrifice  will  have  no  value  unless  it  is  sought  for 
its  own  sake — that  is  to  say,  for  the  sake  of  the 
sufferer.  Let  me  try  to  paraphrase  his  words: 
**  When  you  go  out  on  your  mission  of  charity, 
take  care  that  you  are  guided  by  only  one  motive 
— the  goodness  of  the  cause.     Let  nothing  be  in 

53 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

front  of  you  but  the  righteousness  of  the  act.  It 
is  quite  true  that  there  will  come  to  you  an  out- 
ward recompense ;  the  glory  of  the  Lord  will 
ultimately  shine  upon  yourself.  But  take  heed 
that  you  keep  that  thought  in  the  background. 
Do  not  think  of  the  glory  with  which  God  will 
recompense  you.  Let  that  glory  be  to  you  in  the 
rear — a  thing  not  before  your  eyes.  Let  the  only, 
thing  before  your  eyes  be  the  cause  of  righteous-' 
ness,  the  duty  to  minister,  the  need  to  succour 
man ;  *  Thy  righteousness  shall  go  before  thee;  the' 
glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  thy  rearward.' "  That 
is  what  I  understand  the  prophet  to  mean.  In 
the  life  for  God  there  is  an  invitation  to  personal 
sacrifice  and  there  is  a  promise  of  personal  glory. 
But  the  prophet  tells  us  to  put  the  promise 
behind  our  back  until  we  have  finished  the  sacri- 
fice. He  bids  us  forget  the  glory  until  we  have 
surrendered  the  life.  He  says  :  "  There  is  joy  in 
heaven  to  a  sacrificial  soul ;  but  I  would  not  have 
that  soul  keep  the  joy  of  heaven  before  its  eyes. 
I  would  have  it,  when  it  serves  the  beggar,  forget 
the  golden  streets  and  the  pearly  gates  and  the 
unsetting  suns  and  the  crystal  rivers  and  the 
living  fountains.  I  would  have  it  remember  only 
the  claims  of  love.  I  would  have  it  remember 
only  the  cries  of  the  perishing  and  the  groans  of 

54 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  SELFLESSNESS  TO  CHARITY 

the  wounded  and  the  deep  inarticulate  longings  of 
those  who  are  too  feeble  to  cry;  let  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  be  my  rearward." 

Lord,  often  have  I  thought  of  these  words  of 
Thine,  **  Every  valley  shall  be  exalted  and  every 
mountain  shall  be  brought  low,  and  the  crooked 
shall  be  made  straight  and  the  rough  places  plain, 
and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed.'* 
Strange  has  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  glory  has 
come  so  late.  I  have  asked,  Why  didst  Thou  not 
reveal  it  at  the  beginning  ?  If  I  had  seen  the 
heavenly  glory,  would  it  not  have  helped  me  in 
the  levelling  of  the  mountains,  in  the  elevating  of 
the  valleys,  in  the  straightening  of  the  crooked 
and  the  smoothing  of  the  rough  ? — so  I  inquired 
in  the  olden  time.  But  now,  my  Father,  it  is  all 
clear  to  me.  I  see  why  Thou  hast  placed  the 
glory  in  the  rear ;  I  see  why  Thou  hast  hid  the 
personal  gain.  If  I  had  seen  my  gain,  the  labour 
might  have  been  accelerated ;  but  it  would  have 
been  less  a  labour  of  love.  It  would  have  been 
prompted  less  by  my  brother's  cry  than  by  my 
own  crown.  My  hands  would  have  moved  to  the 
music  of  my  own  accompaniment,  not  to  the 
dirge  of  the  needy.  Thou  hast  hid  the  gold  that 
I  may  hear  the  groan.  Thou  hast  veiled  the  sun 
that  I  may  catch  the  sigh.    Thou  hast  hushed  the 

55 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

song  that  I  may  pierce  the  silence.  Thou  hast 
clouded  the  brightness  that  I  may  lift  the  burden. 
Thou  hast  withheld  the  plaudits  that  I  may  work 
only  for  the  poor.  Thou  hast  dimmed  my  star 
that  I  may  face  my  brother's  storm.  Thou  hast 
concealed  Thy  throne  of  power  that  my  heart's 
motive  may  be  the  throb  of  pity.  I  thank  Thee, 
O  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  placed  Thy  glory  in  the 
rear. 


56 


How  to  Register  Believers 

"With   the   heart    man   believeth   unto    righteousness."— 
Romans  x.  io. 

I  HAVE  often  figured  to  myself  the  idea  of  an 
ordained  census  of  religious  opinion ;  it  has  at 
times  seemed  to  me  an  adequate  means  of  arriving 
at  the  present  position  of  spiritual  faith.  But 
there  is  one  difficulty  which  has  deeply  struck  me. 
It  is  very  easy  to  register  the  number  of  Church 
members  and  their  distribution  among  the  different 
Churches,  because  a  man  cannot  both  be  and  not 
be  the  member  of  a  Church  at  the  same  time. 
But  when  you  come  to  ask  whether  a  man  is 
theist  or  agnostic,  pietist  or  sceptic,  believer  or 
doubter,  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  even  for  him- 
self to  answer.  And  the  reason  is  that  he  may  at 
one  and  the  same  time  be  both  the  one  and  the 
other.  For,  there  are  two  roads  to  belief — the 
intellect  and  the  heart ;  and  many  a  man  loses 
his  way  by  the  former  who  finds  it  by  the  latter. 
It  is  not  alone  of  my  belief  in  God  that  this  is 
true;  it  is  as  true  of  my  belief  in  my  brother. 

57 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

There  are  people  in  this  world  known  to  me  who 
might  be  surrounded  by  a  chain  of  circumstantial 
evidence  almost  demonstrating  crime  and  whom 
my  intellect  could  not  clear,  yet  of  whose  stainless 
integrity  I  should  have  no  more  doubt  than  of  the 
light  of  the  sun  at  noonday.  In  any  argument  in 
their  favour  I  should  have  to  own  myself  van- 
quished; yet  my  conviction  of  their  innocence 
would  remain  without  a  cloud ;  the  street  which 
was  a  bhnd  alley  to  the  understanding  would  be 
to  the  heart  a  road  into  green  fields.  So  may  it 
be  with  your  religion.  Your  understanding  may 
be  in  the  night  when  your  heart  is  in  the  noon. 
Your  intellect  may  be  baffled  by  the  clouds  that 
environ  your  God ;  you  may  be  numbered  by  the 
world  among  the  sceptics ;  you  may  be  counted 
with  those  that  have  denied  the  faith.  Yet,  could 
it  enter  the  secret  of  your  pavilion,  that  world 
might  find  you  on  your  knees — pouring  forth 
prayers  with  the  simplicity  of  a  little  child.  The 
world  would  say,  **  It  is  hypocrisy."  It  would  be 
wrong ;  no  man  is  a  hypocrite  before  God.  It  is 
a  simpler,  truer  explanation  that  comforts  us. 
You  have  lost  your  way  by  one  route  and  found 
it  by  another.  The  star  hid  by  the  house-tops 
has  appeared  again  in  the  open.  The  Christ 
whom  you  recognised  not  on  the  road  has  been 

58 


HOW  TO  REGISTER  BELIEVERS 

made  known  to  you  at  the  evening  meal.  The 
knot  which  reason  could  not  untie  has  been 
unwoven  by  the  heart  of  love. 

My  brother,  Paul  says  that  God  will  judge  thee 
not  by  the  former  but  by  the  latter  belief,  "  With 
the  heart  man  believeth  unto  righteousness."  Hast 
thou  pondered  the  comfort  of  these  words.  Men 
ask  thee  if  thou  hast  found  Christ;  and  often 
thou  sayest  No  when  the  answer  should  be  Yes. 
Art  thou  one  of  the  lost  sheep?  inquires  the 
world.  What  should  thine  answer  be  in  such  a 
case  as  Paul  suggests?  Should  it  not  be  this. 
*'  I  am  a  lost  sheep  on  this  road.  I  have  never 
been  able  to  find  my  way  in  this  direction.  I 
have  always  been  landed  in  bewilderment,  in  fog, 
in  perplexity ;  by  the  intellectual  route  I  am  ever 
wandered.  But  there  is  another  route  by  which 
I  always  reach  my  goal — the  route  of  the  heart. 
Whenever  I  get  on  that  road  the  fog  vanishes, 
the  perplexity  disappears,  and  the  towers  of  my 
Father's  palace  rise  gleaming  in  the  sun.  When 
I  am  there,  I  am  not  a  lost  sheep  any  more. 
Why  must  the  census  be  taken  when  I  am  on  the 
way  unsuited  to  me ! — it  is  only  on  that  path  I 
have  been  numbered  among  the  transgressors.'* 
Yes,  my  brother,  and  Paul  would  take  thy  census 
in  another  spot.     He  would  have  thee  judged  by 

59 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

the  heart.  At  the  very  moment  when  the  world 
says  "  Lost  *'  Paul  cries  **  Found."  In  the  very 
hour  when  the  world  deems  thee  wandered  Paul 
writes  "  Reached  home."  In  the  very  instant 
when  the  world  inscribes  on  thee  the  title  "A 
pilgrim  of  the  night,"  Paul  numbers  thee  in  the 
book  of  life  as  "  A  son  of  the  morning." 


60 


The  Response  of  the  Environment 

"  When  Israel  went  out  of  Egypt,  the  mountains  skipped  like 
rams." — Ps.  cxiv.  i,  4. 

It  is  said  that  man  is  affected  by  his  environ- 
ment. It  is  true ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  man's 
environment  is  affected  by  him.  We  are  influenced 
by  the  sights  and  sounds  around  us ;  but  it  is  no 
less  certain  that  the  sights  and  sounds  around  us 
are  influenced  by  us.  In  this  passage  we  have  an 
incident  of  the  latter  kind.  When  Israel  went 
out  of  Egypt  there  was  a  change  in  her  environ- 
ment, **  The  mountains  skipped."  She  trans- 
ferred to  the  things  around  her  the  impression  of 
her  own  joy.  She  was  inwardly  leaping  and 
dancing,  and,  as  in  a  mirror,  she  saw  the  moun- 
tains leaping  and  dancing  too.  Why  the  moun- 
tains ?  Why  not  the  brooks,  the  streams,  the 
rivers  ?  Is  not  the  idea  of  motion  more  suitable 
to  these  ?  Certainly  ;  therefore  the  psalmist, 
because  he  was  a  poet,  did  not  select  them.  He 
selected  the  most  unlikely  things — the  mountains. 
The   mountains   naturally  suggest   anything    but 

61 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

dancing.    They  suggest  immobility,  steadfastness, 
iron   determination   to   be   affected   by   nothing. 
And  that  is  just  where  the  dramatic  power  of 
this  poet  comes  in.     He  sees  the  joy  of  the  soul 
infecting  the  most  stolid  objects  in  the  world — 
the   sober,   grave,    serious   mountains.      If    these 
could  be  made  to  dance  to  the  rhythm   of  the 
heart,  no  part  of  Nature  could  possibly  remain 
unmoved.      I  regard  it  as  a  fine  stroke  of  literary 
genius  that,  in  seeking  a  partner  for  the  dance  of 
the  spirit,  the  psalmist  should  have  chosen,  not 
the  streams,  but  the  mountains.      He  wants  to 
show   how   utterly   dependent    is  the   aspect  of 
Nature  on  the  state  of  the  heart — even  where  the 
aspect  of  Nature  seems   most  fixed  and  stereo- 
typed.    He  tells  how  in  the  joy  of  the  spirit  even 
the  stable  mountains  cannot  keep  still  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder,  but  leap  and  bound  and  vibrate 
to  the  pulse  of  the  gladdened  soul.     Have  you 
not   felt  this  power  of  joy  over   prosaic  things. 
Have  you  not  felt  how  cold  has  lost  its  chillness, 
how  rain  has  lost  its  dreariness,  how  wind  has 
lost    its    bitterness,  when  the   heart  was  young. 
Have  you  not   felt   how  the   long  way  became 
short,  how  the  rough  road  became  smooth,  how 
the  muddy  path  became  clean,  when  the  heart 
was  young.     Have  you  not  felt  how  the  roar  of 
62 


THE  RESPONSE  OF  THE  ENVIRONMENT 

traffic  made  music,  how  the  din  of  the  city  made 
merry,  how  the  shriek  of  the  railway  train  made 
laughter,  when  the  heart  was  young.  Oh,  the 
psalmist  was  right  when  he  said  that  when  the 
soul  is  emancipated  from  its  Egypt  the  very 
mountains  leap. 

Lord,  Thou  hast  said,  "  I  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you."  Yea,  and  the  preparation  must  be 
rather  in  me  than  in  the  place.  Any  place  will 
be  joyous,  if  my  heart  be  young.  Rejuvenate  my 
heart,  O  Lord,  and  the  mountains  will  leap. 
When  my  heart  grows  old  I  get  weary  of  locali- 
ties ;  I  migrate  from  spot  to  spot,  I  flit  from 
flower  to  flower,  I  sigh  for  the  wings  of  a  dove  to 
break  the  monotony  of  my  rest.  But  that  is 
because  my  heart  is  not  leaping.  If  my  heart 
would  leap,  everything  would  leap  —  the  very 
mountains.  It  is  not  new  objects  I  want ;  it  is 
renewed  joy  in  them.  Give  me  back  the  joy  of 
the  waves,  the  laughter  of  the  brooks,  the  singing 
of  the  streams !  Give  me  back  the  sense  of  morn- 
ing, the  smile  of  Nature's  greeting,  the  welcome 
from  wood  and  field  !  Make  the  excursion  what 
it  used  to  be  ;  make  the  holiday  what  it  used  to 
be ;  make  the  evening  walk  what  it  used  to  be  ! 
It  is  not  the  years  that  have  stolen  their  charm  ; 
it  is  the  friction  of  the  heart.     Revive  the  joy  of 

63 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

my  heart,  O  Lord  !  Make  my  spirit  young  again! 
Restore  my  soul  to  freshness  that  the  pastures 
may  be  green !  Give  me  back  the  child's  wonder, 
the  boy's  ardour,  the  youth's  glamour !  Replace, 
within,  the  rose  that  has  withered !  Rekindle  the 
spring  that  has  faded  !  Reanimate  the  hope  that 
is  vanished  !  Renew  to  October  the  promise 
made  to  April!  Plant  the  burning  bush  amid 
the  snows  of  Nebo  !  Give  aspiration  to  my 
autumn,  wings  to  my  winter,  songs  to  my  sunset, 
expectancy  to  my  evening  light!  Then  shall 
the  waves  resound  once  more ;  then  shall  the 
mountains  leap  as  they  did  at  morning's  glow* 


The  Permanence  of  Spirit  in  the  Fleetingness 
of  Nature 

••  They  shall  perish,  but  Thou  shall  endure  ;  yea,  all  of  them 
shall  wax  old  like  a  garment ;  but  Thou  art  the  same." — Ps.  cii. 
26,  27. 

The  sentiment  of  this  passage  is  to  my  mind 
unique  in  literature.  The  common  sentiment  of 
men  in  looking  on  the  face  of  nature  is  the  con- 
trary. You  gaze  upon  a  field  which  you  trod  in 
childhood ;  and  almost  with  bitterness  the  thought 
comes  over  you,  Why  is  matter  so  much  more 
enduring  than  spirit !  You  think  of  the  multitude 
who  are  dead  since  first  you  trod  this  field — this 
field  which  seems  to  stand  as  fresh  and  green  as  of 
yore.  It  is  such  a  sentiment  as  this  which 
Tennyson  expresses  when  he  makes  the  brook 
sing,  "  Men  may  come  and  men  may  go,  but  I 
go  on  for  ever."  It  is  such  a  sentiment  as  this 
which  Byron  expresses  when  he  surveys  the  sea 
and  cries,  "  Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure 
brow."  It  is  such  a  sentiment  as  this  which  we 
all  express  when  we  speak  of  "the   everlasting 

65  E 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

hills";  we  are  contrasting  the  permanence  of 
nature  with  the  transitoriness  of  spirit.  But  in 
this  outpouring  of  the  psalmist  we  have  exactly 
the  opposite  idea ;  here,  nature  is  the  perishable 
and  spirit  the  permanent.  He  looks  at  the  field, 
at  the  sea,  at  the  hills,  and  cries,  "  They  perish, 
but  the  great  Spirit  remaineth."  It  is  the  in- 
version of  Tennyson's  song — **  Brooks  may  come 
and  brooks  may  go,  but  soul  goes  on  for  ever." 
And  there  is  no  doubt,  even  from  a  literary  point 
of  view,  that  the  psalmist  is  right.  Even  in  this 
world  the  most  abiding  thing  is  a  soul.  The 
brook  could  never  say  **  I,"  because  it  does  not 
remain  the  same  brook  for  two  minutes.  So  far 
from  going  on  for  ever,  it  needs  to  be  renewed 
every  instant.  The  drops  are  new  each  moment. 
They  only  seem  the  same  because  my  spirit  is  the 
same.  It  is  my  spirit  which  says  **  I " — not  the 
brook.  The  psalmist  saw  this.  He  saw  that  the 
permanence  attributed  to  each  natural  form  is  an 
illusion  cast  by  the  shadow  of  the  soul's  own 
immortality.  The  bloom  of  the  flower  is  not  a 
single  bloom;  it  is  a  momentarily  repeated  colour. 
The  water  of  the  stream  is  not  a  single  water  ; 
it  is  an  ever-renewed  liquid.  The  strength  of 
the  mountain  is  not  a  single  strength ;  it  is  a 
constantly-replenished  force  coming  from  the  play 
66 


THE  PERMANENCE  OF  SPIRIT 

of  atoms.      The  spirit  alone  abides ;   the   spirit 
alone  says  "  I." 

O  Thou  Divine  Spirit,  whose  breath  has  become 
my  spirit,  the  secret  of  my  permanence  is  Thy  life 
within  me.  I  am  the  one  stable  thing  in  a  fleeting 
universe.  All  my  vestures  are  being  changed  from 
hour  to  hour.  The  body  I  have  in  youth  is  not 
the  body  I  had  when  a  child ;  not  one  trace  of  the 
old  garment  remains.  Yet  my  spirit  remains ;  the 
tabernacle  has  vanished,  but  I  go  on  for  ever. 
Why  ?  What  is  that  which  is  permanent  within 
me  after  I  have  lost  every  vestige  of  my  garment  ? 
It  is  Thou,  O  Lord.  That  which  I  call  my  soul 
is  a  breath  from  Thee.  It  is  a  part  of  Thyself. 
It  is  a  spray- drop  from  Thine  ocean ;  it  is  a  spark 
from  Thy  fire.  Many,  when  they  address  Thee, 
look  up;  /  look  in.  There  are  some  to  whom 
Thou  art  most  mirrored  in  the  sunbeam ;  to  me 
Thou  art  most  deeply  reflected  in  the  soul.  There 
is  one  thing  which  in  the  sunbeam  I  cannot  see — 
Thy  permanence.  I  can  see  there  Thy  brightness, 
Thy  joy,  Thy  glory — but  not  Thy  permanence. 
I  never  can  see  that  till  I  look  into  my  soul.  The 
brook  has  no  continuous  song  ;  its  chatterings  are 
but  the  accumulated  voices  of  dying  myriads  of 
drops  extinguished  to  make  room  for  more.  But 
by  the  side  of  the  brook  my  soul  can  sing  a  real 

67  E  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

song,  a  continuous  song,  a  song  that  persists  while 
the  atoms  are  vanishing.  By  the  side  of  the 
brook  my  soul  can  live  while  the  waters  die,  my 
heart  can  beat  while  the  globules  fall,  my  steps 
can  stray  while  the  myriad  drops  expire.  There- 
fore it  is  within  that  I  see  the  vision  of  Thine 
immortality.  It  is  within  that  I  read  the  record 
of  Thy  Life  Eternal.  It  is  within  that  I  seek  a 
symbol  of  Thine  Everlasting  Day.  I  address  my 
spirit  when  I  say  to  Thee,  "  They  shall  perish, 
but  Thou  shalt  endure." 


68 


The  Religious  Type  of  Peter 

"  Account  that  the  longsufifermg  of  our  Lord  is  salvation.*'— 
2  Pbter  III.  15. 

The  salvation  of  the  soul  takes  different  forms 
according  to  the  difference  of  the  character.  In 
the  New  Testament  epistles  it  has,  I  think, 
assumed  four  different  forms,  represented  respec- 
tively by  James,  Paul,  John,  and  Peter.  With 
James  salvation  is  reached  by  work — it  comes 
primarily  through  the  hand.  With  Paul  it  is 
reached  by  light — it  comes  in  a  flash  from  heaven 
appealing  to  the  eye.  With  John  it  is  reached  by 
love — it  speaks  originally  to  the  heart.  With 
Peter  it  is  different  from  any  of  these.  In  his 
view  it  is  reached  by  a  series  of  buffetings — by 
repeated  falls  and  repeated  forgivenesses — by 
what  he  calls  "  the  longsuffering  of  God."  All 
these  different  standpoints  have  come  from  the 
separate  experiences  of  the  men.  James  was  long 
a  Jew  before  he  became  a  Christian,  and  therefore 
he  was  always  prone  to  prefer  work  to  sentiment. 
Paul  was  illuminated  by  an  intellectual  light,  and 

69 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

therefore  he  aspired  *'  to  comprehend  with  all 
saints."  John  was  the  disciple  of  love,  and  there- 
fore he  studied  with  his  heart.  But  the  most 
appropriate  parallel  of  all  is  that  of  Peter.  To 
him  salvation  or  the  power  of  walking  came  by 
repeated  falls  and  repeated  liftings  from  the 
ground — in  other  words,  by  the  longsuffering  of 
God.  He  receives  Christ's  blessing  in  the 
morning,  and  in  the  evening  gets  His  stern 
rebuke.  One  hour  he  is  on  the  mountain,  and 
the  next  under  a  cloud.  To-day  he  is  voyaging 
bravely,  and  to-morrow  he  is  crying,  **  Save  me; 
I  perish  !  "  Now  he  is  vowing  deathless  devotion 
to  Jesus,  and  anon  he  is  proclaiming,  "  I  know 
not  the  man."  I  do  not  wonder  that  to  him 
salvation  became  equivalent  to  the  longsuffering 
of  God.  And  I  do  think  that  Peter  represents 
the  larger  class.  There  are  earnest  workers 
among  us  like  James.  There  are  intellectual 
seers  among  us  like  Paul.  There  are  devotees  of 
the  heart  among  us  like  John.  But  I  think  the 
large  majority  among  us  are  men  with  whom 
it  is  neither  abiding  light  nor  abiding  darkness — 
men  who  are  falling  to-day  and  rising  to-morrow 
— men  on  whose  tombstone  the  only  appropriate 
words  would  be,  "  Saved  by  the  longsuffering  of 
God." 

70 


THE  RELIGIOUS  TYPE  OF  PETER 

Lord,  teach  me  my  brotherhood  with  the  Peters 
of  this  world !  I  am  always  ready  to  claim  it 
with  Paul,  with  John,  even  with  James ;  but  I  am 
slow  to  claim  it  with  Peter.  When  I  see  a  man 
with  a  light  in  his  soul  I  behold  an  evidence  of 
Thy  communion.  When  I  meet  a  man  with  love 
in  his  heart  I  behold  an  evidence  of  Thy  com- 
munion. When  I  find  a  man  with  Christian 
work  on  his  hands  I  behold  an  evidence  of  Thy 
communion.  But  when  I  see  a  man  in  struggle 
with  life's  winds  and  waves,  when  I  behold  him 
alternately  rising  and  falling — to-day  breasting  the 
billows  and  to-morrow  sinking  in  the  depths,  I 
say,  **This  is  one  whose  Christian  life  is  not  yet 
begun."  Teach  me  my  mistake,  O  Father ! 
Teach  me  that  those  in  conflict  are  themselves  in 
the  way  of  salvation  !  Give  me  a  hand  of  fellow- 
ship for  the  man  of  many  falls  !  It  is  easy  for  me 
to  have  fellowship  with  light  and  love  and 
working.  But  with  the  man  who  is  waited  for — 
whose  light  is  fitful,  whose  love  is  wavering,  whose 
working  is  spasmodic,  I  have  not  been  taught  to 
claim  kindred.  Let  this  be  Thy  lesson  for  me 
to-day,  O  Lord  !  Let  me  admit  to  Thy  com- 
munion the  storm-tossed  souls,  the  sinking  souls, 
the  souls  that  have  failed  to  walk  upon  life's  sea  ! 
Let   me  admit   to  Thy   communion   the   minds 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

whose  vision  of  glory  has  been  clouded,  who  have 
been  unable  to  fix  their  tabernacle  upon  a  height ! 
Let  me  admit  to  Thy  communion  the  spirits  that 
have  wrecked  brave  resolves — that  have  violated 
in  the  market-place  the  pledges  they  have  made 
in  the  garden  !  Let  me  admit  to  Thy  communion 
the  lives  that  have  not  yet  learned  the  glory  of  the 
Cross — that  shrink  from  following  up  the  Dolorous 
Way !  Let  me  admit  to  Thy  communion  those 
who  have  kept  Thee  long  waiting,  whose  progress 
has  been  slow,  whose  back-turns  have  been  many  ! 
for  Thy  longsuffering  is  itself  salvation,  and  until 
Thou  hast  blessed  Peter,  Thou  wilt  not  let  him  go. 


72 


The  Characteristic  of  St,  John 

"  These  are  written,  that  believing  ye  might  have  life  through 
His  name." — John  xx.  21. 

I  DO  not  think  we  mark  sufficiently  the  traces 
of  autobiography  in  the  sacred  writers.  The 
favourite  word  of  John  is  "  life."  He  dwells  upon 
it  more  than  on  any  other  conception.  And  it 
seems  to  me  that  there  is  great  appropriateness  in 
the  selection.  To  the  men  of  his  generation  he 
was  essentially  the  man  of  life.  He  had  so  much 
vitality  about  him  that  his  contemporaries  said  he 
would  never  die.  He  says  himself  that  if  a  man 
had  in  him  the  spirit  of  Christ  he  would  have  in 
him  the  spirit  of  immortal  youth,  or  what  he  calls 
Eternal  Life.  Where  did  he  get  that  conception  ? 
From  his  own  experience.  He  felt  every  morning 
as  if  he  were  born  afresh  into  the  world.  He  felt 
something  within  him  like  the  springing  up  of 
living  waters.  Nay,  he  felt  as  if  he  had  already 
passed  the  rubicon  of  death  and  had  even  now 
entered  the  world  of  the  immortals.  I  think  if 
you  and  I  had  met  St.  John  the  thing  that  would 

71 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

have  impressed  us  above  all  other  things  would 
have  been  the  vitality  of  his  spirit.  We  see  this 
manifestation  exhibited  in  some  of  our  fellow-men ; 
there  are  those  whom  we  describe  as  "  full  of  hfe." 
And  if  you  ask  the  source  of  this  Hfe  you  will  find 
that  in  every  case  it  is  originated  by  something 
outside.  John  says  that  in  his  case  the  flow  of 
vitality  came  from  the  name  of  Jesus.  The  flow 
of  vitality  always  comes  from  a  human  interest, 
and  it  is  generally  awakened  by  a  name.  The 
names  "fraternity,'*  "liberty,"  "  equality,"  stimu- 
lated the  French  Revolution — a  vital  force  that 
shook  the  world.  Many  a  heart  has  been  vitalised 
by  a  name.  You  sit  in  a  crowded  drawing-room 
and  hear  a  buzz  of  inarticulate  voices.  Suddenly, 
a  voice  not  louder  than  the  rest  becomes  articulate  ; 
it  pronounces  a  name,  a  name  you  love ;  it  says, 
mentioning  that  name,  "  Have  you  heard  he  is 
coming  home  ?  "  Before  that  name  broke  upon 
your  ear  you  were  listless,  apathetic,  dead.  But 
when  you  heard  the  prophecy  of  its  owner's 
advent,  a  new  life  rose  within  you.  The  eye 
sparkled ;  the  cheek  mantled ;  the  pulse 
quickened ;  the  room  became  radiant ;  the 
languor  vanished ;  the  hours  received  wings. 
Even  such  to  the  beloved  disciple  was  the  mention 
of  the  name  of  Jesus.     It  made  him  young  again 

74 


THE  CHARACTERISTIC  OF  ST.  JOHN 

— nay,  rather  it  kept  him  from  ever  growing  old. 
It  constituted  him  an  evergreen  ;  it  gave  him  life 
eternal.  It  not  only  prolonged  his  years ;  it  made 
them  perpetual  spring  —  elastic  with  energy, 
bounding  with  hope,  buoyant  with  the  promise  of 
to-morrow.  It  retained  within  him  the  heart  of  a 
child. 

Lord,  I  often  speak  of  the  needs  of  life.  Teach 
me  that  the  greatest  need  in  life  is  life  more 
abundant !  When  my  brother  man  gets  wealth  I 
often  say,  "  I  hope  he  will  have  long  life  to  enjoy 
it."  Teach  me  that  what  he  needs  for  its  enjoy- 
ment is  not  length,  but  amount,  of  life !  I 
complain  sometimes  that  things  are  not  as  they 
were  in  the  days  of  my  youth — that  the  grass  is 
less  verdant,  the  birds  less  vocal,  the  waves  less 
joyous.  Teach  me  that  the  change  is  from  within 
— in  the  decline  of  youth  itself!  Teach  me  that 
if  I  could  get  back  the  spirit  of  youth  the  birds 
would  sing  the  songs  of  Bethlehem  and  the  fields 
would  wear  the  flowers  of  Eden  !  Teach  me  that 
I  may  get  back  my  youth — that  love  has  no 
seasons,  and  that  love  can  make  me  young !  I 
shall  be  young  once  more  when  I  get  back  the 
sensation  of  one  name  sounding  above  every  name 
in  the  world's  crowded  room.  I  may  have  that 
sensation,  O  my  Lord ;   the  old  man  of  Patmos  had 

75 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

it  and  it  made  April  of  his  November.  My  heart, 
like  his,  may  tremble  with  joy  at  the  sound  of  a 
name — Thy  Name.  My  spirit,  like  his,  may  leap 
at  the  sense  of  a  presence — Thy  presence.  My 
step,  like  his,  may  bound  at  the  tread  of  a  coming 
— Thy  coming.  My  eye,  like  his,  may  see  visions 
in  the  prospect  of  a  glory — Thy  glory.  My  frame, 
like  his,  may  cast  off  ailments  in  the  expectancy 
of  a  meeting — Thy  meeting.  Even  so  come. 
Lord  Jesus! 


76 


The  First  Place  of  God's  Revelation 

"  God  hath  shined  in  our  hearts  to  give  the  light  of  the  know- 
ledge of  the  glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." — 2  Cor.  iv.  6. 

**  God  hath  shined  in  our  hearts."  What  a 
strange  place  to  shine  in,  considering  the  object 
in  view !  What  is  the  object  in  view  ?  It  is  to 
show  the  Hght  in  the  face  of  Christ.  Should  we 
not,  then,  have  expected  that  the  face  of  Christ 
would  have  been  the  entire  source  of  the  illumina- 
tion ?  Should  we  not  have  looked  for  the  words 
to  have  run  thus :  "  God  hath  shined  in  the  face 
of  Christ  to  give  the  light  of  His  glory  to  the 
heart "  ?  If  the  light  is  in  Christ's  face,  should  it 
not  come  from  the  face ;  what  has  the  poor  heart 
of  man  to  do  with  the  revelation  of  God's  glory  ? 
Much,  my  brother.  There  can  be  no  revelation  to 
a  human  heart  unless  that  heart  is  already  on 
the  line  of  the  revelation.  Dissimilar  natures 
cannot  be  mutually  revealed.  Of  all  raen  known 
to  me  Paul  is  the  most  impressed  with  this.  He 
says,  "  No  man  can  know  the  things  of  a  man  but 
the  spirit  of  a  man."    He  means  that  a  dog  cannot 

77 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

know  the  things  of  a  man,  that  the  human  alone 
can  recognise  the  human.  He  says,  again,  that  no 
seeing  of  the  eye,  nor  hearing  of  the  ear,  can 
reveal  the  things  of  the  spirit,  that  they  can  only 
enter  a  kindred  spirit.  And  this  explains  what  I 
have  often  wondered  at — why  Paul,  in  speaking  of 
his  conversion,  says,  "  It  pleased  God  to  reveal  His 
Son  in  me."  Why  ''in  me  "  ?  I  thought  it  was 
an  outward  light  that  illuminated  him.  I  should 
have  expected  Paul  to  say,  "  It  pleased  God  to 
reveal  His  Son  to  me."  But  Paul  knew  better. 
He  knew  well  that  no  outward  light  could  reveal 
anything  unless  there  was  a  corresponding  light 
already  in  his  soul.  Listen  ! — the  Spirit  must 
precede  the  Son.  Did  not  our  Lord  Himself  tell 
Peter  that  he  never  would  have  recognised  His 
greatness  by  any  outward  vision. — **  Flesh  and 
blood  have  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my 
Father."  Why  do  some  see  Jesus  on  the  mount, 
and  others  only  see  Him  on  the  plain?  His 
outward  shining  is  to  both  the  same ;  the  differ- 
ence lies  in  the  greeting  of  the  spirit.  There  are 
hearts  which  are  already  strewn  with  palm  leaves 
for  the  feet  of  the  Son  of  Man.  The  beauty 
which  kindles  me  is  ever  kindled  from  within. 
The  sublimity  of  night  is  in  my  souL  The  message 
of  wood  and   field  is  beforehand  in  my  mind, 

78 


THE  FIRST  PLACE  OF  CLOD'S  REVELATION 

Nature  only  speaks  to  me  when  my  heart  trans- 
lates its  language.  The  lark  will  not  carol  when 
the  heart  has  care,  the  brook  will  not  babble  when 
the  heart  is  burdened,  the  morn  will  not  smile 
when  the  heart  is  smitten  ;  for  the  song  of  the  lark 
is  my  song,  the  brightness  of  the  brook  is  my 
brightness,  the  smile  of  the  morn  is  the  laughter 
of  my  soul. 

O  Thou  who  hast  illumined  the  face  of  Thy 
Christ,  illumine  my  heart  to  see  it  !  In  vain  shall 
He  come  to  Galilee  if  He  does  not  come  to  my 
soul !  How  shall  I  see  Him  as  He  is  if  I  am  not 
hke  Him !  How  shall  His  treasures  be  borne 
into  my  spirit  if  there  is  no  bridge  of  sympathy 
between  Him  and  me !  Build  that  bridge,  O 
Lord !  I  cannot  read  the  expression  of  love  on  a 
face  except  there  be  love  within  me.  Put  love 
within  me,  O  my  Father !  Neither  sunlight  nor 
moonlight  nor  starlight  can  reveal  to  me  the 
portrait  of  Thy  Christ;  only  heart-light  can. 
Shine  in  my  heart  that  I  may  see  its  glory !  Let 
me  feel  beforehand  that  the  Christ-hfe  is  the 
heroic  life !  Inspire  me  with  the  ideal  ere  I  meet 
the  reahty  !  Kindle  me  with  the  love  of  kind- 
ness !  Stir  me  with  the  admiration  of  sympathy  ! 
Haunt  me  with  the  beauty  of  holiness  !  Teach 
me  the  power  of  peacemaking,  the   strength   of 

79 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

sacrifice,  the  bravery  of  bending,  the  courage  of 
cross-bearing,  the  devotedness  of  self-denial,  the 
majesty  of  mercy,  the  royalty  of  restrained  passion, 
the  sceptre  of  silence,  the  heroism  of  a  chosen 
humility  !  Then  shall  the  threshold  of  my  heart 
be  lighted  for  the  Master's  coming  ;  and  by  that 
light  on  the  threshold  I  shall  meet  Him  at  the 
door ;  and  at  the  very  first  sight  of  His  kindred 
countenance  I  shall  have  knowledge  of  His  glory. 


80 


God's  Deepest  Horror  in  Sin 

«'He  that  sinneth  against  me  wrongeth  his  own  soul."— 
Proverbs  viii.  36. 

This  is   not   the  common   mode  of  thinking 
about  sin.     The  common  mode  is  to  regard  God's 
horror  of  sin  as  resulting  from  a  sense  of  injury 
to  Himself.     Here,  on   the  contrary,  the  Divine 
horror  of  sin  is  said  to  consist  in  the  fact  that  it 
is  an  injury  to  me.     A  father  says  to  a  child,  "  Do 
not  go  near  the  fire  while  I  am  out ;  if  you  do,  I 
shall  be  very  angry."     The  child  probably  thinks 
that  his  anger  will  He  in  the  fact  of  being  disobeyed 
It  will  not  lie  there  at  all ;  it  will  be  stirred  purely 
by  the   fear  that  in  its   act  of  disobedience  the 
child  may  have  hurt  itself.      And  if  he  finds  that 
the  child  has  hurt  itself,  his  anger  will  be  trans- 
muted  into  the  most   intense  pain.     Now,  take 
what  we  call  hell-^re.  The  Heavenly  Father  cries 
to  His  children,  "  I  command  you  not  to  go  near 
it  lest  you  get  scorched."     What  is  the  ground 
of  that  command  ?     Is  it  the  wish  to  exercise  a 
Divine  authority  ?     No  ;  starthng  as  it  may  seem, 

81  F 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

it  is  the  wish  to  avert  a  Divine  fear.  You  have 
heard  the  expression,  "The  fear  of  the  Lord." 
When  I  am  exhorted  to  cultivate  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  v/hat  does  that  mean  ?  It  means  that  I 
am  to  get  into  my  heart  that  fear  which  dwells 
in  the  heart  of  God,  that  I  am  to  have  for  my 
brother  the  same  dread  which  the  Heavenly 
Father  has  for  His  children.  The  fear  of  the 
Lord  is  the  fear  that  His  sons  and  daughters  will 
touch  the  fire.  If  there  were  not  that  dread  in 
the  heart  of  the  All-Father,  the  commands  of 
Sinai  would  never  have  been  issued.  You  speak 
of  God's  sovereign  decrees.  God  has  no  sovereign 
decrees ;  God's  decrees  are  all  paternal.  The 
decrees  of  a  despot  are  meant  to  clip  the  subject's 
wings ;  those  of  the  Father  are  meant  to  expand 
the  wings.  Why  are  you  forbidden  to  hate? 
Because  hatred  cramps  the  soul.  Why  are  you 
forbidden  to  be  jealous  ?  Because  jealousy 
narrows  the  soul.  Why  are  you  forbidden  to  be 
selfish  ?  Because  selfishness  locks  the  soul.  Why 
are  you  commanded  to  love  ?  Because  love  is 
liberty.  Why  are  you  commanded  to  pity  ? 
Because  pity  is  power.  Why  are  you  commanded 
to  sympathise  ?  Because  sympathy  is  the  heart's 
soaring.  The  commands  of  your  Father  break  the 
cage  and  set  you  free.  He  prescribes  faith  that 
82 


GOEKS  DEEPEST  HORROR  IN  SIN 

you  may  fly.  He  offers  grace  that  you  may 
grow.  He  enjoins  kindness  that  you  may  kindle. 
He  exacts  brotherhood  that  you  may  bloom.  He 
requires  service  that  you  may  sing.  He  invites 
prayer  that  you  may  prophesy.  Not  in  His  honour, 
but  in  yours,  does  He  ask  the  homage  of  your  heart; 
the  Father  has  no  glory  but  the  enlargement  of 
His  child. 

Lord,  make  me  partaker  of  Thy  fear — the  fear 
that  the  children  may  get  hurt  in  the  great  fire  I 
It  was  the  fear  of  Thy  Son  in  Gethsemane  when 
He  poured  forth  His  soul  in  strong  crying  and 
tears.  Let  me  work  together  with  Thee  in  keeping 
back  the  children  from  the  fire  !  May  we 
labour  in  common.  Thou  and  I,  for  this  glorious 
end!  Let  me  feel  what  Thou  feelest — not  the 
disobedience,  but  the  danger !  Be  mine  Thy  pain, 
O  Lord — the  pain  for  the  sinner  !  Teach  me  the 
suicide  of  sin  !  Teach  me  that  Magdalene  mars 
her  own  flower — not  Thine  !  Teach  me  that  the 
judgment  on  transgression  is  not  a  father's  anger, 
but  a  father's  grief !  Remind  me  when  it  was  that 
Thy  Son  said,  "  Now  is  the  judgment  of  this 
world" — that  it  was  when  His  own  heart  was 
crucified  by  the  creature's  pain  !  Reveal  to  me, 
nay,  repeat  in  me,  the  mystery  of  Calvary !  Let 
me  bear  with  Thee,  with  Thy  Christ,  the  burdens 

83  F  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

of  the  bad  !  Impress  me  with  their  poverty ! 
Weight  me  with  their  weariness  !  Load  me  with 
their  self-loathing  !  Rack  me  with  their  remorse  ! 
Toss  me  with  their  tempests  !  Haunt  me  with 
their  hunger  !  Scorch  me  with  the  soreness  of 
their  flame  !  I  am  told  they  have  violated  Thy 
justice  ;  Thy  deepest  sorrow  is  that  they  have 
been  unjust  to  themselves — they  have  "  wronged 
their  own  souls." 


84 


Sin  Conquered  by  Loveliness 

"  He  was  manifested  to  take  away  our  sins."— i  John  hi.  5. 

Manifested  to  take  away  sin!  If  we  met 
these  words  for  the  first  time,  we  should  think 
them  very  strange.  They  sound  as  if  one  said, 
"  A  picture  was  exhibited  to  remove  a  pestilence." 
The  agency  seems  extremely  soft  for  the  iron  task 
assigned  to  it.  We  could  understand  the  appro- 
priateness of  other  agencies.  We  could  under- 
stand why  it  should  be  said,  "Repressive  laws 
were  made  to  take  away  sin."  We  could  under- 
stand the  propriety  of  the  statement,  "  Drastic 
penalties  were  enacted  to  take  away  sin."  We 
could  understand  the  logic  of  the  averment,  "  A 
life  of  asceticism  was  prescribed  to  take  away 
sin."  But  a  manifestation,  an  exhibition,  a 
painting,  a  mere  showing  of  something — that 
seems  a  poor  weapon  to  wield  against  so  deadly 
a  foe.  Yet,  examine  your  own  experience  and 
you  will  find  St.  John  is  right.  What  is  it  which 
cures  the  greatest  number  of  sins  in  this  world  ? 

85 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Is  it  law  ?  No.  Is  it  penalty  ?  No.  Is  it  the 
withdrawal  of  outward  temptation  ?  No.  It  is 
the  sight  of  something  beautiful,  or  I  should 
rather  say,  the  sight  of  some  one  beautiful.  What 
I  need  is  not  a  restraining  influence ;  it  is  an 
expanding  influence.  I  require,  not  a  stone  laid 
at  the  door  of  the  heart,  but  a  star  lit  in  the  dome 
of  the  heavens.  I  shall  never  lose  my  attraction 
for  sin  by  being  contracted  in  the  opportunity  for 
it.  What  I  want  is  a  counter-attraction — a 
counter-love.  Sin  is  a  state  of  love.  It  is  the 
love  of  a  person — myself.  You  can  only  counter- 
balance that  on  the  homoeopathic  principle — by 
opposing  to  it  another  kind  of  love.  I  must  see  a 
more  admirable  being  than  myself.  My  heart, 
which  has  been  captivated  by  the  charm  of  my 
own  personality,  must  be  taken  prisoner  by  a 
purer  personality.  We  sometimes  say  of  a  self- 
conscious  man,  "  He  needs  to  get  his  wings 
chpped."  No ;  what  he  needs  is  to  get  his  wings 
extended.  He  is  not  too  ambitious  ;  he  is  too 
humble.  He  must  be  made  to  soar  higher.  This 
world  must  not  lose  its  attraction  for  him ;  it 
must  gain  more  attraction.  He  has  been  enchanted 
by  a  stagnant  pool.  How  is  he  to  be  dis- 
enchanted ?  By  drying  up  the  pool  ?  No  ;  that 
would  not  make  him  love  it  less ;  it  would  still  be 
86 


SIN  CONQUERED  BY  LOVELINESS 

undried  in  memory.  If  you  want  to  disenchant 
him,  you  must  show  him  the  sea — with  its  laughing 
waves,  with  its  bounding  waters,  with  its  pulses 
of  leaping  life.  So  shall  the  stagnancy  be  put  to 
shame  ;  so  shall  he  learn  that  he  was  worshipping 
a  dead  thing. 

O  Thou  who  art  a  portion  of  this  world  and 
yet  fairer  than  the  children  of  men,  I  fly  to  Thee, 
I  do  not  seek  to  learn  purity  by  counting  the 
impurities  in  the  pool ;  I  fly  to  Thee.  I  stand  by 
the  ocean  of  Thy  love  and  listen  to  its  music  ;  and 
the  old  ideal  dies,  and  all  things  are  made  new. 
It  is  not  by  Thy  precepts  I  am  purified  ;  it  is  by 
Thyself.  It  is  not  by  coming  to  hate  the  world ; 
it  is  by  finding  a  new  beauty  in  the  world — Thy 
beauty.  There  has  been  no  outward  shattering 
of  myself;  there  has  been  simply  a  gaze  at  Thee, 
My  riches  have  not  taken  wings,  but  my  soul  has. 
I  have  not  lost  avarice  by  losing  gold,  but  by 
gaining  flowers  of  paradise.  I  have  not  abandoned 
intemperance  through  failing  health,  but  by  getting 
health  more  abundantly.  I  have  not  dulled 
temptation  by  ceasing  to  care  for  earth,  but  by 
putting  on  a  larger  care — care  for  Thee.  My 
burdens  have  fallen  at  the  vision  of  Thy  beauty. 
My  vanities  have  faded  at  the  sight  of  Thy 
vesture.     My  follies  have  fled  from  the  brightness 

87 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

of  Thy  face.  My  selfishness  has  withered  in  the 
light  of  Thy  smile.  My  hardness  has  melted  in 
the  warmth  of  Thy  heart.  My  passion  has  been 
lulled  by  the  calm  of  Thy  presence.  I  have  lost 
sight  of  the  wilderness  by  gazing  on  the  New 
Jerusalem ;  Thou  Altogether  Lovely,  I  am  saved 
by  Thee. 


88 


The  Principle  of  Christ's  Selection 

••  Jesus  stood  still  and  commanded  him  to  be  called.  And  they 
call  the  blind  man,  saying  unto  him,  Be  of  good  comfort,  rise ; 
He  calleth  thee." — Mark  x.  49. 

You  will  observe,  Jesus  called  the  blind  man 
while  he  was  yet  in  his  blindness.  This  is  the 
most  significant  and  the  most  suggestive  feature 
of  the  narrative.  He  does  not  exact  light  as  the 
condition  of  the  man's  coming ;  He  calls  him  with 
the  night  still  hanging  round  him,  with  the  burden 
still  unlifted,  with  the  barrier  still  unremoved. 
That  remains  to  this  day  the  law  of  Christ's 
kingdom — though  there  are  many  of  His  ministers 
who  need  to  learn  it.  We  all  feel  the  value  and 
the  glory  of  religious  light;  but  it  is  a  great 
mistake  to  imagine  that  religious  light  is  essential 
to  a  man's  call.  We  have  come  to  look  upon  the 
intellectual  perplexities  of  a  human  soul  as  a  sign 
that  this  soul  is  unconverted.  They  are  no  such 
sign.  This  man  in  the  streets  of  Jericho  is  a 
typical  case.  The  typical  thing  about  him  is  not 
that  he  regains  his  sight,  but  that  he  comes  to 

89 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Christ  before  he  has  regained  his  sight.  The 
thing  that  makes  him  spiritually  fit  for  the  king- 
dom of  God  is  not  his  vision  of  the  light  but  his 
contact  with  Jesus.  The  moral  would  to  my 
mind  have  been  equally  effective  without  the  cure. 
All  the  men  in  the  streets  of  Jericho  were  saying, 
"  This  man's  darkness  proves  him  to  be  outside 
the  kingdom  of  God."  Jesus  says,  **  I  will  refute 
that  belief;  bring  the  man  to  me  in  his  present 
state  of  dilapidation ;  bring  him  with  the  burden 
unrelieved  and  the  night  unbroken,  and  even  thus 
I  will  let  him  in."  And  that  is  Christ's  message 
to  the  men  of  England  as  well  as  to  the  men  of 
Jericho.  We  say,  "  There  are  those  among  us 
whose  spiritual  knowledge  is  very  defective;  we 
will  take  care  not  to  admit  them  to  Christ's 
table."  Christ  says,  "  If  you  can  get  them  into 
contact  with  myself,  you  can/osj5^ow5  their  spiritual 
knowledge ;  if  you  can  inspire  personal  love,  you 
can  let  them  wait  for  light ;  bring  them  to  me.'* 
My  Christ  is  the  only  Master  that  has  membership 
for  the  benighted.  All  others  cry,  "  Get  your  sight 
and  come."  He  says,  **  Come,  and  get  your 
sight."  Moses  asks  cleansing ;  Socrates  desires 
knowledge;  Plato  needs  philosophy;  Buddha 
seeks  worldly  renunciation;  Confucius  demands 
orderly  life;  John  Baptist  requires  the  fruits  of 
90 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CHRIST'S  SELECTION 

repentance.  But  Christ  will  accept  the  hearing 
of  a  voice  in  the  night.  He  does  not  ask  pre- 
liminary morning.  He  does  not  ask  antecedent 
vision.  He  does  not  ask,  for  the  opening  miles,  a 
knowledge  of  the  way.  He  only  appeals  to  the 
ear;  He  says,  **  Come." 

O  Thou  who  alone  hast  called  the  sons  of  night, 
unto  whom  shall  we  go  but  unto  Thee  !  All  other 
masters  keep  back  the  white  robe  till  we  are  able 
to  see  it — Moses,  Socrates,  Plato,  Confucius, 
Buddha,  the  baptist  John.  But  Thou  hast  put 
the  white  robe  on  us  while  yet  we  are  blind. 
Thou  hast  clothed  us  in  a  garment  of  which  we 
cannot  yet  see  the  beauty — the  garment  of  Thine 
own  righteousness.  Thou  hast  painted  us  in  Thy 
heart  not  as  we  are  but  as  we  shall  be.  Thou 
hast  dressed  us  in  the  colours  of  a  sun  on  which 
our  eyes  have  never  gazed.  The  light  in  which 
we  stand  before  Thee  is  the  light  of  to-morrow. 
jit  is  not  our  rags  Thou  beholdest,  but  our  future 
radiance.  There  is  photographed  in  Thy  rays,  not 
the  man  that  is,  but  the  man  that  is  to  be.  Thou 
seest  Peter  without  his  timidity,  John  without  his 
exclusiveness,  James  without  his  prosaicness, 
Thomas  without  his  scepticism,  Nicodemus  with- 
out his  materiahsm,  Paul  without  his  legalism, 
Martha    without     her    philistinism,     Magdalene 

91 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

without  her  sevenfold  temptation.  Thou  waitest 
not  for  our  amendment ;  the  light  by  which  Thou 
seest  us  is  not  ours,  but  Thine.  Thou  callest  us 
to  our  labour  and  our  ladenness,  to  our  burden  and 
our  blindness,  to  our  withering  and  our  weakness. 
Thou  speakest  not  to  our  present  nobleness  but  to 
our  present  need ;  in  the  sense  of  that  need,  we 
come. 


9a 


The  True  Outlook  for  Faith 

"Righteousness  shall  go  before  Him." — Ps.  lxxxv.  13. 

Why  should  the  psalmist  say  that  God's 
righteousness  "  goes  before  Him  "  ;  why  should 
he  not  have  written,  "  His  righteousness  will  be 
seen  as  He  is  passing  by  "  ?  Because  this  latter 
would  not  be  true.  It  is  not  as  God  passes  that 
His  righteousness  is  seen.  The  idea  I  take  to  be 
that  we  cannot  expect  to  understand  the  goodness 
of  God  until  His  plan  has  been  fully  unfolded. 
We  feel  His  action  to-day  ;  we  shall  only  learn 
its  wisdom  to-morrow.  We  see  the  storing  of 
vegetable  matter  in  the  depths  of  the  earth ;  we 
say,  "  To  what  purpose  is  this  waste  !  "  By-and- 
by  it  is  dug  up  for  coal ;  it  becomes  the  source  of 
household  fires  and  the  means  of  swift  locomotion. 
We  find  that  in  its  buried  state  it  has  been  wait- 
ing to  be  the  minister  to  human  civilisation,  and 
we  say  to  God,  "  Thou  hast  understood  my 
thoughts  afar  off — Thou  hast  made  provision  in 
advance."     We    see    a   man    of   grand    powers 

93 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

immured  in  a  wilderness;  we  say  again,  "To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste  !  "  By-and-by  the 
wilderness  becomes  a  thoroughfare,  and  the 
solitude  is  broken.  We  find  that  in  his  buried 
state  the  man  has  been  waiting  for  the  hour  of  a 
great  destiny,  and  we  cry  to  God,  "The  com- 
pleted years  have  praised  Thee."  We  see  the 
Priest  of  human  souls  crucified  by  the  world;  we 
say  once  more,  "  To  what  purpose  is  this  waste !  " 
By-and-by  that  cross  becomes  His  glory.  His 
kingdom,  His  crown.  We  find  that  in  His  buried 
state  He  has  redeemed  the  world,  and  we  cry  to 
God,  "The  fulness  of  the  time  has  justified 
Thee."  In  all  these  acts  the  righteousness  of 
God  has  gone  before  Him.  It  has  not  been  seen 
while  He  was  passing  by.  The  thing  seen  was 
something  apparently  adverse  to  God — something 
which  seemed  to  derogate  from  His  providence. 
But  the  object  present  to  the  Divine  eye  was 
always  the  future.  It  rested  not  on  the  buried 
vegetation  but  on  the  coming  coalfield,  not  on 
the  deserted  place  but  on  the  desert  made 
populous,  not  on  the  death  in  humiliation  but  on 
the  days  when  such  humiliation  should  be  deemed 
the  climax  of  glory.  To  see  the  righteousness  of 
God  you  must  see  Him  by  to-morrow's  light. 
Lord,  to  me  Thy  deeds  are  often  in  the  cloud. 

94 


THE  TRUE  OUTLOOK  FOR  FAITH 

Help  me  at  these  times  to  look  towards  the 
coming  day !  I  sometimes  gaze  at  the  universe 
and  say,  "  Is  this  a  perfect  building  ?  "  Help  me 
to  remember  that  the  building  is  not  finished  yet, 
and  that  therefore  it  cannot  be  perfect !  Thy 
righteousness  goes  before  Thee,  O  Lord;  praise 
waiteth  for  Thee  till  the  seventh  morn  shall  dawn. 
Thou  art  still  working  at  the  structure ;  and  to 
the  present  eye  there  seems  disorder.  Teach  me 
that  the  disorder  lies  in  the  process  of  building ! 
Give  me  a  vision  of  Thy  completed  plan !  Thy 
plan  is  perfection  through  suffering — the  glorifica- 
tion of  minor  chords  in  a  symphony.  To-day  I 
hear  the  minor  chords,  but  not  the  symphony. 
They  are  voices  crying  in  the  wilderness.  It  is 
their  wilderness — their  isolation  from  the  other 
notes,  that  makes  their  sound  so  sad.  Often  I 
stretch  my  hands  to  Thee  and  say,  "Where  is 
the  sign  of  Thy  love  !  "  Tell  me  that  the  minor 
notes  will  be  justified  when  the  symphony  comes  ! 
Tell  me  that  one  day  the  voices  of  the  universe 
will  sing  together  in  a  blaze  of  harmony!  Tell 
me  that  the  chord  which  to-day  seems  to  jar  will 
to-morrow  join  !  Tell  me  that  in  the  symphonic 
chorus  there  is  a  place  prepared  for  the  seemingly 
discordant  tone !  Tell  me  that  grief  will  be 
wedded  to  glory,  that  pain  will  be   married  to 

95 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

peace,  that  toil  will  be  united  to  triumph,  that 
loss  will  be  linked  with  love,  that  burdens  will 
blend  with  beauty,  that  cares  will  be  heard  as 
carols,  that  the  dirge  will  keep  time  to  the  dance ! 
Thy  righteousness  has  gone  before  Thee,  O  my 
Father;  I  shall  find  its  vindication  at  the 
marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb. 


96 


Man^s  Need  of  Immortality 

"  Remember  how  short  my  time  is ;  wherefore  hast  Thou 
made  all  men  in  vain  !  " — Ps.  lxxxix.  47. 

I  WOULD  describe  this  as  the  earliest  Bible  cry 
for  immortality.  It  is  a  very  peculiar  cry.  It  is 
grounded  not  upon  instinct,  but  upon  reason.  It 
is  not  a  longing  founded  upon  the  mere  love  of 
life.  It  is  not  a  desire  based  upon  the  mere  dread 
of  death.  It  is  not  a  wish  rising  from  the  mere 
search  for  new  surroundings.  It  is  a  cry  origi- 
nating in  the  spirit  of  economy — the  resistance  to 
waste.  The  psalmist  is  impressed  with  the 
inadequacy  of  the  term  of  human  life.  He  does 
not  mean  that  it  is  too  short  for  enjoyment ; 
enjoyment  is  always  taken  at  a  quick  draught. 
But  he  thinks  it  too  short  for  the  work  assigned 
to  it.  He  sees  the  labourer  hired  into  the  vine- 
yard with  orders  to  perform  a  certain  task.  But 
he  finds  that  the  task  given  to  the  labourer  is  one 
which  he  could  not  possibly  perform  within  the 
limits  of  the  working  day.  He  says,  "  What  does 
97  G 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

the  lord  of  the  vineyard  mean  by  this  dispro- 
portion between  work  and  time ;  surely  he  must 
intend  the  labour  to  be  continued  into  another 
day  !  "  And  you  will  find  that  the  deepest  cry  of 
all  ages  has  been  the  psalmist's  cry.  What  makes 
us  crave  a  future,  is  not  a  sense  of  this  world's 
misery,  but  a  sense  of  this  world's  vanity.  We 
say  with  the  psalmist,  "Wherefore  hast  Thou 
made  all  men  in  vain — why  hast  Thou  given  them 
working  orders  which  are  quite  incommensurate 
with  the  brief  time  they  have  to  live  on  earth  ?  " 
We  feel  that  there  is  more  furniture  to  be  put 
into  the  house  than  the  house  will  hold.  We  are 
prompted  to  boundless  aspiration,  and  we  live  on 
earth  but  for  an  hour.  We  are  inspired  to  endless 
love,  and  it  never  reaches  summer.  We  are 
bidden  by  conscience  to  work  for  all  ages,  and  we 
have  only  threescore  years  and  ten.  Life's  day  is 
too  short  for  us.  It  is  not  too  short  for  the  bee, 
which  completes  its  destined  palace.  It  is  not  too 
short  for  the  lark,  which  completes  its  destined 
song.  It  is  not  too  short  for  the  ox,  which  com- 
pletes its  ploughing  in  the  field.  But  it  is  too 
short  for  man,  whose  ideal  is  unrealised,  whose 
song  is  unfinished,  whose  labour  in  the  field  is 
scarce  begun. 

Therefore,  O  Lord,  I  know  that  this  is  not  my 
98 


MAN^S  NEED  OF  IMMORTALITY 

goal.  I  have  brought  into  the  vineyard  imple- 
ments which  I  can  never  use — which  I  have  no 
time  to  use.  Thou  hast  furnished  me  with  powers 
which  here  can  have  no  adequate  exercise.  Hast 
Thou  made  me,  then,  in  vain  !  It  cannot  be,  O 
my  Father.  I  speak  of  the  ephemeral  insect ; 
yet,  if  this  life  were  my  all,  the  insect  would  not 
be  so  ephemeral  as  I.  The  insect  finishes  the 
work  which  Thou  gavest  it  to  do;  I  leave  my 
studies  incomplete,  my  book  unwritten,  my 
picture  without  its  closing  touch,  my  house  with- 
out its  topmost  storey.  But  it  is  just  my  incom- 
pleteness that  makes  my  hope.  I  know  Thou 
wouldst  not  give  me  power  to  be  squandered ;  I 
know  Thou  hast  appointed  for  me  another  day. 
It  is  not  my  fear  that  cries  to  Thee ;  it  is  my 
sense  of  justice  and  my  wish  to  vindicate  Thy 
justice.  If  earth  met  all  my  needs,  I  would  accept 
the  day  of  death.  But  earth  has  not  fully 
responded  to  any  one  cry  of  my  spirit,  and  I  claim 
response  from  Thee,  It  is  in  defence  of  Thee  that 
I  seek  a  life  beyond.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  the 
wasted  gifts  upon  the  shore.  Utilise  them,  O 
Lord !  Surely  there  is  light  waiting  somewhere 
for  my  mirror  !  Surely  there  are  viands  waiting 
somewhere  for  my  table !  Surely  there  is  rest 
waiting  somewhere  for  my  spread  couch  !     Surely 

99  G  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

there  are  guests  waiting  somewhere  for  the  many 
vacant  seats  within  my  soul !  Surely  there  are 
answers  waiting  somewhere  to  the  myriad  epistles 
written  by  my  heart !  Forbid  that  I  should  think 
Thou  hast  made  my  life  in  vain  I 


100 


The  Connection  between  Sanctity  and 
Salubrity 

"  God  be  merciful  unto  us  and  bless  us,  and  cause  His  face  to 
shine  upon  us,  that  Thy  saving  health  may  be  known  among  all 
nations." — Ps.  lxvii.  i,  2. 

There  is  a  strong  connection  between  health 
and  happiness — between  the  shining  of  the  heart 
and  the  soundness  of  the  body.  The  connection, 
I  think,  is  more  seen  in  the  prevention  than  in  the 
cure  of  disease.  When  an  illness  has  actually 
mastered  us  it  is  usually  vain  to  say,  **  Keep  up 
your  spirits."  The  tendency  of  illness  is  to  keep 
down  the  spirits.  You  remember  how  this  is 
suggested  in  the  Book  of  Job.  Why  does  the 
Satan  of  the  drama  after  overwhelming  Job  by 
poverty  and  bereavement  ask  leave  to  afflict  him 
with  ill-health  ?  It  is  because,  while  poverty  and 
bereavement  make  us  prostrate,  ill-health  keeps  us 
prostrate — prevents  us  from  seeing  the  actual  sun- 
beams which  remain.  But  it  is  as  a  safeguard  from 
sickness  rather  than  a  cure  of  sickness  that  the 
study  of  sunbeams  is  valuable.     When  the  body 

lOI 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

is  laid  low,  all  the  light  and  music  in  the  world 
may  fail  to  raise  it ;  but  a  very  little  light  and 
music  might  have  prevented  its  prostration.  It  is 
where  the  salt  of  life  has  lost  its  savour  that  the 
body  is  trodden  down ;  but  where  the  savour  of 
life  is  enjoyed,  there  is  a  body-guard.  Now,  the 
psalmist  says  that  religion  has  a  medical  value. 
He  says  that  everywhere — "among  all  nations" 
— it  tends  to  preserve  health.  It  does  so  because 
it  furnishes  a  sunbeam  to  the  heart.  It  gives  a 
promise  of  good  fortune  to  come.  A  promise  of 
coming  good  fortune  brings  a  flood  of  mental 
energy,  and  that  is  converted  into  bodily  energy. 
The  worries  that  make  us  physically  weak  are 
almost  entirely  occupied  with  the  future,  whether 
of  this  world  or  other  worlds.  The  sting  of  poverty 
is  the  thought  of  to-morrow.  The  sting  of  bereave- 
ment is  the  cloud  beyond  death.  The  sting  of 
conscience  is  the  doubt  of  our  qualification  for 
heaven.  And,  if  our  worries  are  generally  about 
the  future,  they  can  have  no  panacea  like  religion. 
Religion  alone  can  make  a  heart  confident  about 
the  future.  Human  effort  may  in  a  measure 
redeem  the  past ;  human  toil  may  provide  much 
for  the  present ;  but  only  the  sense  of  God  can 
gild  my  future.  It  is  no  mere  metaphor  when 
the  Bible  calls  God  **  the  health  of  my  counte- 

102 


SANCTITY  AND  SALUBRITY 

nance  "  ;  for  the  cares  that  ruffle  the  body  are  not 
the  troubles  of  to-day  but  the  troubles  of  to- 
morrow, and  nothing  can  alleviate  the  troubles 
of  to-morrow  but  the  shining  face  of  God. 

Shine   into   my  heart,  Thou   better   Sun,  and 
I  shall  be  physically  strong.     It  is  rather  on  my 
heart  than  on  my  garden   I  need  Thy  shining. 
All  Thy  sunbeams  might  fall  on  my  garden  and 
leave  my  heart  in  depression.     That  which  weighs 
down  my  spirit,  and  therefore  my  flesh,  is  ever 
the  coming  day.     I  am  exposed    to  sickness    on 
Monday  from   the   mental  worries  of   Tuesday. 
It  is  my  thought  for  to-morrow  that  weakens  me 
in  the  previous  night ;  my  shadows  are  the  fore- 
casts of  things  to  be  ;  I  am  weighted  by  the  cares 
I   hear   coming.      Thou    alone,    O    Lord,   canst 
muffle  the  sound  of  these  wings  ;  Thou  alone  canst 
give  peace  for  to-morrow.    Shine  on  me  with  Thy 
face— Thine  outlook  of  good  cheer  !     Take  away 
preliminary  dread,  that  I   may  be  proof  against 
the  pestilence  !     Dispel  anticipative  downcastness, 
that  I  may  be  scathless  among  the  sick !    Quell 
dark  premonitions,  that  I  may  be  untouched  by 
the  contagion!      Inspire   me  with  hope,  that  I 
may  not  be  wearied  by  the  way  !      Shed  Thy 
light   on  my   future,   that  the    burdens    of   the 
present    may    not    bruise    me!      Fill    me  with 
103 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

antecedent  joy,  that  I  may  not  be  caught  by  the 
atmosphere's  cold  !  Encompass  with  song  my 
opening  journey,  that  I  may  defy  the  draught 
from  lane  and  alley !  My  spirit  will  be  the 
guardian  of  my  body  when  I  have  learned  that 
Thou  art  my  keeper. 


204 


The  Relation  of  Severity  to  Pardon 

"  Thou  wast  a  God  that  forgavest  them,  though  Thou  tookest 
vengeance  of  their  doings."— Ps.  xcix.  8  (R.V.). 

There  is  a  great  confusion  of  thought  on  the 
subject  of  retribution.  It  is  supposed  that  when 
a  man  suffers  for  his  fault  it  indicates  that  God  is 
angry  with  him.  The  notion  is  that  God  may 
forgive  him  after  suffering  his  penalty,  but  that 
the  receiving  of  the  penalty  implies  Divine  dis- 
pleasure. The  psalmist's  view  is  just  the  opposite. 
He  says  that  in  dealing  with  His  people  God 
forgave  first  and  punished  afterwards,  "  Thou 
wast  a  God  that  forgavest  them,  though  Thou 
tookest  vengeance  of  their  doings."  The  idea 
seems  to  be  that  when  God  forgives  a  man,  part 
of  His  forgiveness  consists  in  the  reparation  of 
his  wrong.  You  will  observe  that  God's  vengeance 
is  here  said  to  fall  on  acts — not  on  persons.  The 
more  I  love  a  wrongdoer  and  the  more  perfectly  I 
forgive  his  wrong,  the  more  shall  I  be  eager  to 
have  it  counteracted,  expiated.  If  I  have  a  son 
whose  fast  living  has  involved  him  in  deep  debt, 
105 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

my  enmity  to  the  debt  will  only  be  increased  by 
my  reconciliation  to  himself.  If  I  had  cast  him 
off,  I  might  wash  my  hands  of  his  disgrace.  But, 
as  I  have  received  him  back,  his  disgrace  pains 
me,  revolts  me.  I  appropriate  it  as  in  part  my 
own.  I  do  so  just  because  I  have  taken  back  my 
son  into  the  membership  of  my  family.  If  I  had 
perpetually  expelled  him  from  my  family,  I  should 
have  deemed  his  disgrace  no  affair  of  mine.  But 
because  I  have  reinstated  him,  it  does  become  my 
affair.  I  feel  that  his  creditors  lie  at  my  door.  I 
feel  by  the  very  love  I  bear  him  that  his  deed  has 
left  a  stain  upon  my  own  garment  which,  both  in 
his  interest  and  mine,  must  be  rubbed  out.  The 
debt  must  be  paid — if  possible  with  his  co-opera- 
tion, certainly  with  his  consent.  The  blotting-out 
of  the  debt  is  my  paternal  vengeance  upon  his 
deed,  and  it  comes  from  the  very  heart  of  my 
fatherhood.  It  is  the  voice,  not  of  my  anger,  but 
of  my  love.  It  is  the  product  of  my  pardon,  the 
ground  of  my  forgiveness,  the  result  of  my  recog- 
nition. The  retribution  would  never  have  been 
desired  by  me  unless  the  song  had  first  sounded 
in  my  soul,  "  This  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive 
again,  was  lost  and  is  found." 

Lord,  let  me  not  faint  when  my  deed  is  rebuked 
by  Thee  ;   let   me   not   say,  "  I  am  rejected  of 
io6 


THE  RELATION  OF  SEVERITY  TO  PARDON 

heaven!"      I  plant  a  tree  of  evil  and  ask  Thy 
pardon  ;  by-and-by  the  tempest  comes  and  tears  it 
down.     Shall  I  say  that  it  is  Thy  vengeance  upon 
me  ?     Nay,  my  Father ;  it  is  only  Thy  vengeance 
upon  my  tree.     The  tearing  down  of  my  structure 
is  itself  the  sign  of  my  pardon  ;  if  Thou  hadst 
loved  me  less,  Thou  wouldst  have  let  it  stand. 
Is  it  not   a  good  gift  of  Thy  love  that  all  my 
wicked  deeds  should  be  burned  up— burned  with 
unquenchable  fire.      Let  my  first  prayer  to  Thee, 
be  a  prayer  for  the  undoing  of  my  past  !     I  have 
read  of  the  ill-planted  seed,  *'  When  the  sun  was 
up,   it   was   scorched."      When  the  sun  of  Thy 
favour   rises  upon  me,  all   my  ill-planted   seeds 
shall  wither.     They  shall  wither  because  of  Thy 
sun,  because  of  the  warmth  of  Thy  love.     Let  no 
one  persuade  me  at  that  moment  that  I  am  in 
the  cold,  in  the  outer  darkness !      Let  me  claim 
Thy  sunshine  as  the  witherer  of  my  false  gourd ! 
It  is  not  Thine  anger  but  Thy  love  that  demands 
the  atonement.     After  spiritual  death  is  passed, 
the  judgment  comes.     Teach  me  that  the  judgment 
is  a  sign  of  life,  not  death !     In  my  chastisement 
let  me  read  Thy  charity !     In  my  correction  let 
me  recognise  Thy  Christ !     In  my  retribution  let 
me  detect  Thy  radiance !     In  my  pain  let  me  feel 
Thy  pity !     In  my  forfeiture  let  me  behold  Thy 
107 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

favour !  In  my  stripes  let  me  see  Thy  smile  ! 
In  my  remorse  let  me  discern  Thy  reconciliation  ! 
In  the  sharpness  of  my  visitation  let  me  hail  the 
shining  of  Thy  visage  !  There  is  no  proof  of  Thy 
Fatherhood  like  the  scourging  of  my  sin. 


io8 


The  Road  to  Righteousness 

"  That  ye  would  walk  worthy  of  God  who  hath  called  you."— 

I.  ThESS.  II.  12. 

There  is  a  point  here  which,  because  it  lies  very 
much  on  the  surface,  has  generally  escaped  atten- 
tion. It  is  this — Paul,  in  making  an  appeal  to  his 
fellow-sinners,  appeals  not  to  their  humility  but 
to  their  pride.  We  should  have  expected  him  to 
have  done  otherwise.  He  was  deeply  conscious 
himself  of  his  moral  shortcomings,  and  he  was  not 
less  aware  of  the  shortcomings  of  those  around 
him.  Should  we  not,  then,  have  looked  for  a 
direction  to  these  shortcomings.  Should  we  not 
have  expected  him  to  say,  "Consider  how  bad 
you  are,  how  needy  you  are,  how  threadbare  you 
are,  how  much  you  are  in  want  of  a  new 
garment !  "  On  the  contrary,  he  appeals  to  them 
on  the  opposite  ground.  He  tells  them  they  are 
not  wholly  threadbare,  not  quite  destitute.  He 
tells  them  there  is  something  noble  about  them — • 
something  which  has  caused  them  to  be  elected 
to  a  high  position,  and  in  which  they  ought  to  feel 
log 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

a  legitimate  pride.  He  bids  them  contemplate 
that  part  of  their  image  which  is  not  effaced — bids 
them  seek  Christ,  not  through  the  sight  of  their 
rags  but  through  the  light  of  their  star,  "  Walk 
worthy  of  God  who  hath  called  you."  And  I  am 
quite  sure  that  Paul  is  right.  I  am  convinced  we 
often  fail  to  win  men  just  because  we  suggest  to 
them  their  badness  rather  than  their  goodness. 
It  is  a  fatal  thing  for  a  man  when  he  comes  to 
feel  that  nobody  believes  in  him.  Never  let  your 
child  see  that  you  expect  nothing  of  his  integrity ; 
if  you  expect  nothing  you  will  get  nothing.  Never 
meet  a  statement  of  his  by  declaring,  "  I  have  no 
faith  in  a  word  you  say  "  ;  that  will  paralyse  his 
efforts  after  truth.  Rather  say,  "  Remember,  I 
trust  in  your  honour,  I  believe  in  your  sincerity, 
I  have  confidence  that  you  would  not  deceive 
me."  That  will  make  an  appeal  to  any  part  of 
his  garment  which  is  still  unrent.  The  stripes 
of  conscience  always  fall  on  the  better  side  of  us. 
When  do  I  mourn  the  barrenness  of  my  moral 
field?  It  is  when  I  catch  sight  of  a  patch  of 
green.  A  bad  man  is  never  so  near  to  repentance 
as  when  he  is  surprised  into  a  good  action.  It  is 
from  hope,  not  from  despair,  that  the  sting  of 
conscience  comes.  I  am  never  ashamed  of 
myself  till  I  see  what  I  might  have  been.    When 


THE  ROAD  TO  RIGHTEOUSNESS 

does  the  man  of  Tarsus  fall  to  the  earth  ?  When 
he  gets  a  vision  of  his  better  self — when  the  voice 
of  Christ  says  to  him,  **I  am  surprised  that  a  man 
like  you  should  not  have  been  on  my  side ;  Saul, 
Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me !  " 

Lord,  show  me  my  better  self  that  I  may  repent 
in  dust  and  ashes!  All  repentant  souls  I  have 
ever  seen  have  been  vanquished  by  a  sight  of  the 
sunshine.  I  have  seen  Magdalene  raining  tears  of 
penitence  at  Thy  feet ;  but  her  tears  were  brought 
by  the  sunshine — Thy  smile  of  reconciliation.  I 
have  seen  Peter  go  out  and  weep  bitterly  ;  but 
his  weeping  came  from  Thy  look  of  unexpected 
love.  I  have  seen  the  Samaritan  stricken  at  the 
well ;  but  she  had  received  first  a  draught  of  the 
living  water.  Help  me  to  imitate  Thy  Divine 
method,  O  Lord  !  When  I  go  to  the  miscreant 
to  win  him  back  to  Thee,  let  me  seek  within 
him  for  traces  of  the  dawn  !  Let  me  come  to  him 
as  to  a  man  who  has  a  future,  not  as  to  a  man 
who  has  a  past !  Let  me  approach  him  not  with 
a  scourge,  but  with  a  smile !  Let  me  not  tell 
him  of  his  night,  but  of  his  possible  morning ! 
Let  me  put  into  his  hands  a  photograph  of  what 
he  will  be  to-morrow !  Let  me  not  say  to  him, 
**  You  see  how  bad  human  nature  is  "  ;  let  me  say, 
*'  You  see  how  beautiful  is   that   human  nature 

XXI 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

which  you  are  spoiling ! "  Tell  him  that  he  is 
not  himself,  that  the  likeness  of  him  hung  up  in 
heaven  is  quite  different  from  his  present  mien! 
Then  will  shame  come — not  from  his  night,  but 
from  his  day.  Then  will  disgust  come — not  from 
his  rags,  but  from  his  prospective  robe.  Then 
will  remorse  come — not  from  his  deadness,  but 
from  the  pulse  of  his  incipient  life  ;  and  hope  will 
bring  forth  the  cry,  **  I  have  been  unworthy  of 
my  caUing," 


112 


The  First  Token  of  Divine  Fellowship 

"I  will  commune  with  thee  from  above  the  mercy-seat." — 

Ex.  XXV.  22. 

Is  it  not  rather  a  strange  place  for  communion 
between  God  and  man.  Communion  always 
implies  some  affinity  of  nature  between  two  or 
more  minds.  One  would  think  the  mercy-seat  the 
last  place  for  an  affinity  of  man  with  God.  It  is 
a  meeting  of  extremes — the  Holy  One  and  the 
conscious  sinner,  the  Righteous  Judge  and  the 
suppliant  for  pardon,  the  Sitter  on  the  Great 
White  Throne  and  the  convicted  miscreant  at 
the  bar  of  justice.  We  could  have  understood 
communion  with  the  Divine  in  other  quarters.  We 
;could  have  felt  it  under  the  throbbing  stars,  where 
our  hearts  vibrate  with  the  sense  of  the  infinite. 
We  could  have  realised  it  in  the  presence  of  genius 
where  our  spirit  is  made  to  forget  its  own  limits. 
We  could  have  learned  it  even  from  our  moments 
of  spiritual  thirst,  for  the  thirst  for  God  implies  a 
capacity  for  God.  But  that  there  should  be  com- 
munion in  the  moment  of  our  moral  conviction, 
113  H 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

that  there  should  be  Divine  fellowship  in  the 
hour  when  we  recognise  that  we  are  clothed 
in  rags— this  is  a  startling  thing  I  And  yet  it  is 
true.  For,  what  is  it  that  convicts  a  man  ?  What 
is  it  that  makes  a  human  soul  a  suppliant  for 
mercy  ?  It  is  holiness  already  begun.  The  white 
throne  of  God  is  only  visible  to  the  eye  that  is 
emerging  from  impure  waters.  I  am  never  so 
near  to  God  as  when  I  cry,  "  Depart  from  me, 
for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord  !  "  Not  even  when 
vibrating  'neath  the  stars  am  I  so  near  as  then. 
The  stars  reveal  something  beyond  me ;  the  convic- 
tion of  sin  reveals  something  in  me.  George 
Macdonald  has  somewhere  said  that  there  are 
colours  which  are  only  brought  to  light  by  a 
cloudy  day.  I  think  it  is  pre-eminently  true  in 
the  sphere  of  the  mercy-seat.  I  never  learn  that 
I  have  a  little  good  in  me  till  I  have  realised  my 
worthlessness.  It  is  not  increased  poverty,  but 
increased  means,  that  makes  me  a  suppliant.  It 
is  the  light,  not  the  darkness,  that  brings  me  to 
my  knees.  The  shadow  that  I  see  is  the  shadow 
of  my  God.  I  mistake  the  shadow  for  nightfall ; 
I  sit  down  to  weep.  I  imagine  that  I  am  sitting 
on  the  cold  ground  ;  and  all  the  time  I  am  on 
the  doorstep  of  my  Father's  house,  and  the  door 
is  open,  and  my  Father  is  coming  out  to  take  me 
114 


THE  FIRST  TOKEN  OF  DIVINE  FELLOWSHIP 

in.     It  is  the  brightness  of  God's  face  that  makes 
me  cry  for  mercy.  ^ 

Lord,  it  is  on  my  sea  that  Thou  walkest ;  it  is 
on  the   billows  of  my   soul  that   Thou    drawest 
near.     The  first  proof  of  Thy  presence  is  inward 
storm.      It    is    by  the  rolling   of  the   waves  of 
conscience  that  I  know  Thee  to  be  nigh.     When 
Thou  wert  absent   from  my  heart  there  was  no 
wind,  there  were  no  waves  ;  the  sea  was  a  great 
calm.     But  when  Thy  feet  touched  the  waters  my 
storm  arose— the  storm  of  my  conscience.     The 
thing   which  yesterday  looked   harmless  became 
fraught  with  peril.    The  deeds  on  which  yester- 
day I  gazed  with  complacency  spread  blackness 
in  my  soul.     The  valleys  became  mountains,  the 
drops    appeared    oceans,    the   trifles   loomed    as 
deadly  crimes,  and  I   beat  upon  my  breast  and 
cried,  "  Lord,  be  merciful  unto  me  !  "     That  was 
my  hour  of  communion  with  Thee,  O  my  Father. 
It  was  not  the  hour  which  brought  communion  ; 
it  was  itself  the  fruit  of  fellowship.      It  was  Thy 
bresence  woke  the  sea.     It  was  Thy  footstep  broke 
the  silence  of  my  spirit.     It  was  Thy  hand  drew 
aside  the  curtain  that  hid  the  mirror  of  myself.    I 
shall  tremble  at  that  mirror  no   more.     Though 
it  shows  my  rags,  though  it  reveals  my  squalor, 
though  it  ensures  my  humility,  I  shall  tremble  no 

115  H  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

more.  I  have  learned  my  nothingness  ;  but  it  is 
by  Thy  nearness.  I  have  felt  my  poverty  ;  but  it 
is  by  Thy  presence.  I  have  experienced  my 
shadow  ;  but  it  is  by  Thy  shining.  I  have  been 
taught  my  weakness ;  but  it  is  by  the  sweep  of 
Thy  wing.  I  have  found  my  frailty;  but  it  is 
by  contact  with  Thy  fire.  I  have  been  convicted 
of  sin ;  but  it  is  by  the  sight  of  Thy  sanctuary. 
My  cry  has  com.e  from  the  Christ  within  me ; 
the  suppliant  for  Thy  mercy  has  the  sign  of 
communion. 


Ii6 


The  Price  I  Pay  for  Seeing  Christ 

'♦When  he  saw   Him,  straightway  the  spirit  tare  him."— 
Mark  ix.  20. 

This  invalid  only  knew  himself  to  be  a  weakling 
when  he  saw  Jesus.  There  is  nothing  which  rends 
the  spirit  hke  the  sight  of  a  high  ideal.  Spiritual 
stagnancy  is  the  result  of  a  low  standard.  There 
is  a  phrase  we  often  hear :  "  He  is  on  very  good 
terms  with  himself."  We  apply  it  to  a  man  who 
has  never  had  any  rending  of  the  spirit.  I  can 
never  be  on  bad  terms  with  myself  as  long  as 
there  is  only  one  man  within  me.  If  in  my  heart 
there  hangs  the  picture  of  a  second  self,  a  higher 
self,  a  self  which  mimics  my  errors  and  tells  me 
how  things  ought  to  be  done — if  there  is  in  my 
soul  a  man  who  sings  after  me  the  song  I  have 
spoiled,  reads  after  me  the  piece  I  have  ruined, 
performs  after  me  the  service  I  have  poorly 
rendered — that  presence  makes  me  small.  It 
puts  me  on  bad  terms  with  myself — on  wrestHng 
terms,  the  terms  on  which  Jacob  stood  with  his 
angel.  It  will  not  in  the  least  soothe  my  struggle 
117 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

to  know  that  I  am  the  first  man  in  the  company, 
in  the  village,  or  even  in  the  kingdom.  There  was 
not  a  man  of  his  day  so  good  as  Jacob — he  was 
the  chosen  patriarch  of  God.  But  he  was  far 
below  his  angel — the  ideal  of  what  he  would  like 
to  have  been.  It  was  his  angel  that  made  him 
miserable.  In  view  of  its  flight  he  was  lame  ;  in 
sound  of  its  song  he  was  dumb ;  in  presence  ot 
its  radiance  he  had  not  reached  the  breaking  ot 
the  day.  He  was  on  bad  terms  with  himself ;  he 
wrestled  with  himself;  the  complacent  calm  of 
long  years  was  broken,  and  the  tempest  arose. 
When  Paul  met  a  storm  at  sea,  the  men  of  Malta 
said  he  must  be  a  bad  man.  We  are  all  apt  to 
feel  like  the  men  of  Malta.  When  we  see  a  storm- 
tossed  spirit  toiling  with  its  own  waves  and  battling 
with  its  own  breezes,  we  say.  Surely  he  is  a  child 
of  the  darkness !  We  are  wrong ;  he  is  a  child 
of  the  light.  It  is  only  because  he  is  a  child  of 
the  light  that  he  wrestles  with  the  deep.  He  felt 
no  discord  till  he  heard  the  music.  He  knew  no 
midnight  till  he  saw  the  morning.  He  dreamed  not 
of  his  mean  attire  till  he  gazed  on  the  seamless 
robe.  He  got  his  cross  from  Christ,  his  laden- 
ness  from  light,  his  burden  from  seeing  beauty. 
He  was  humbled  by  a  sight  of  heaven,  prostrated 
by  a  ray  of  Patmos,  broken  by  a  song  of  Bethlehem, 
Ii8 


THE  PRICE  I  PAY  FOR  SEEING  CHRIST 

crushed  by  a  glimpse  of  Calvary,  overwhelmed  b> 
a  flash  of  Olivet,  dwarfed  by  a  vision  of  Damascus. 
The  thorn  which  pierced  his  heart  was  a  thorn  in 
the  crown  of  Jesus. 

O  Thou  who  art  the  ideal  of  what  I  ought  to 
be,  the  ideal  of  what  my  Father  would  have  me 
to  be,  come  into  my  soul  and  shine  !  Give  me 
one  glimpse  of  the  brightness  of  Thy  glory !  I 
know  it  will  send  me,  not  peace,  but  a  sword ;  I 
know  it  will  strike  me  blind  to  all  that  I  once 
thought  beautiful.  I  shall  never  again  be 
pleased  with  my  singing  when  I  have  heard 
Thy  voice.  I  shall  never  again  admire  my 
garments  when  I  have  seen  Thy  robe.  I  shall 
never  again  prize  my  attainments  when  I  have 
discerned  Thy  splendour.  What  matter  ! — come, 
Lord  Jesus  !  At  the  price  of  my  own  humiliation, 
come !  Though  my  flower  of  self-esteem  shall 
wither,  though  my  pride  of  life  shall  fade,  though 
my  peace  of  ignorance  shall  vanish,  come  ! 
Though  my  ocean  shall  dwindle  to  a  pool,  though 
my  palace  shall  shrink  into  a  hut,  though  my 
silver  shall  be  tarnished  and  my  gold  shall  lose  its 
glow,  come !  Come,  though  Thy  shining  be  my 
shadow ;  come,  though  Thy  presence  be  my 
poverty;  come,  though  the  vision  tell  me  I  am 
vile  !  I  would  rather  be  humble  in  sight  of  the 
119 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

stars  than  proud  in  lighting  my  tapers.  It  is 
worth  while  to  see  my  spots  if  I  see  them  because 
of  sunshine.  It  is  worth  while  to  hear  my  dis- 
cords if  I  hear  them  because  of  harmony.  It  is 
worth  while  to  find  my  darkness  if  I  detect  it  by 
finding  day.  The  rending  of  the  heart  will  not 
ruffle  me  if  it  is  rent  by  the  dawning  of  Thy 
Spirit. 


120 


The  Conflict  of  Spring  and  Autumn 

"  Many  of  the  fathers,  which  were  ancient  men  and  had  seen 
the  first  house,  wept  with  a  loud  voice  ;  and  many  shouted 
aloud  for  joy."— Ezra  hi.  12. 

This  is  the  earliest  strife  between  the  religious 
conservative  and  the  religious  liberal.  It  was  a 
conflict  of  emotions.  The  old  men  and  the  young 
men  both  looked  at  the  new  building;  the  old 
wept  and  the  young  shouted.  Youth  clapped  its 
hands  and  cried,  "  What  a  magnificent  temple ; 
what  an  advance  we  have  made  on  the  days  of 
our  fathers ! "  Age  wrung  its  hands  and  said, 
"  How  are  the  mighty  fallen ;  what  a  contrast 
between  this  poor  modern  fabric  and  the  house 
of  long  ago !  "  They  had  both  some  reason  on 
their  side,  the  old  generation  and  the  new.  The 
former  could  say,  "  The  original  house  was  built 
by  our  own  king  and  not  by  a  foreigner."  The  latter 
could  reply,  "  Yes,  but  the  very  fact  shows  that 
our  faith  is  getting  cosmopolitan."  Yet  neither 
of  them  had  the  right  of  the  question,  because 
neither  of  them  had  yet  seen  the  final  temple. 
121 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

The  final  temple  was  coming ;  it  was  Christ.  It 
was  to  unite  the  views  both  of  the  fathers  and 
of  the  children.  It  was  to  satisfy  the  old  men, 
because  it  was  to  be  built  by  their  own  king ;  it 
was  to  satisfy  the  young,  because  it  was  to  make 
room  for  other  lands.  The  two  first  temples  were 
only  half-buildings — subjects  for  neither  laughter 
nor  tears.  The  one  was  sacred  to  yesterday ;  the 
other  was  dedicated  to  the  morrow.  The  one 
was  enshrined  in  memory;  the  other  was  con- 
secrated to  hope.  The  one  glorified  the  past; 
the  other  monopolised  the  future.  The  one  sang 
hymns  to  a  vanished  evening ;  the  other  paid 
its  orisons  to  a  prospective  morning.  But  in 
the  temple  of  Christ  there  was  to  be  a  joining 
of  the  hands ;  memory  and  hope  were  to  embrace 
each  other;  the  evening  and  the  morning  were 
to  be  one  day. 

Ye  fathers  and  ye  children,  I  have  a  message 
for  you.  Why  dwell  ye  in  camps  apart  as  if  youth 
and  age  were  irreconcilable  things !  I  would 
have  you  shake  hands  on  the  battlefield  ;  I  would 
have  age  to  catch  the  spirit  of  youth  and  youth  to 
acquire  the  reverence  for  age.  Ye  who  have 
looked  upon  a  former  temple  and  thought  it  all- 
glorious,  do  not  let  retrospect  banish  prospect! 
Fold  hope  in  the  arms  of  memory  I     Remember, 

122 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  SPRING  AND  AUTUMN 

measured  by  the  clock  of  eternity  you,  too,  are 
young.  Yours  should  not  be  wholly  a  looking 
back.  Is  not  the  world  before  you — the  real 
world,  the  larger  world  !  Are  not  there  mansions 
of  your  Father's  house  more  splendid  than  any 
temple  you  have  seen !  Why  should  not  yours 
be  the  wing  of  the  morning,  the  song  of  the  lark, 
the  bud  of  the  primrose !  Why  should  the  new 
and  unexplored  be  foreign  to  you  !  Are  you  not 
on  the  very  borders  of  the  new,  the  very  frontiers 
of  the  unexplored  !  You,  of  all  men,  should  not 
be  unsympathetic  to  the  spirit  of  youth.  And  ye 
of  the  rising  generation  who  are  clapping  your 
hands  over  a  novel  piece  of  architecture,  do  not 
let  prospect  banish  retrospect !  Fold  memory  in 
the  arms  of  hope !  Remember,  your  very  hope 
is  a  gift  from  your  fathers,  an  heirloom  from  the 
past.  Reverence  that  past !  Though  you  can  no 
longer  wear  its  garments,  let  no  ruthless  hand 
destroy  them!  Lay  them  by  tenderly;  wrap 
them  up  carefully;  keep  them  pure  constantly; 
let  them  be  garments  of  the  spirit  even  when  the 
body  has  outgrown  them  !  So  shall  the  evening 
and  the  morning  meet.  Age  will  become  liberal 
and  youth  conservative.  Age  will  see  the  dawn 
and  youth  will  prize  the  twilight.  Age  will  rise 
on  the  wing  and  youth  will  seek  the  parent  nest. 
1^3 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Age  will  get  the  heart  of  a  boy  and  youth  the 
stability  of  a  senior.  Age  will  have  its  forecast 
visions  and  youth  its  retrospective  dreams.  Age 
will  look  to  the  west  and  youth  have  its  gaze  on 
the  east.  Age  will  greet  us  with  the  cry,  **  Christ 
is  coming  !  "  and  youth  will  surprise  us  with  the 
memory,  "  He  has  done  all  things  well  I  *' 


124 


The  Qualification  of  a  Servant 

"  I  am  Thy  servant ;  give  me  understanding,  that  I  may  know 
Thy  testimonies." — Ps.  cxix.  125. 

I  SHOULD  call  this  distinctively  the  servant's 
prayer.  At  first  sight  it  might  seem  that  the 
prayer  of  a  servant  should  be  more  elementary. 
It  might  seem  that  the  simple  duty  of  a  servant  is 
to  ask  for  orders.  The  psalmist  has  a  different 
view.  To  his  mind  the  perfection  of  domestic 
service  is  not  the  receiving  but  the  forestalling  of 
orders — the  providing  for  requirements  before- 
hand. **  Because  I  am  a  servant,  give  me 
understanding,  that  I  may  know  in  advance 
the  things  Thou  hast  need  of — that  I  may 
not  require  to  wait  for  Thy  verbal  instructions 
but  may  consider  the  wants  of  Thy  house- 
hold." That  is  the  psalmist's  meaning,  and  it 
is  founded  on  truth.  For,  in  God's  house  as 
in  man's  house,  there  are  two  ways  in  which 
one  may  be  a  "  good  and  faithful  servant " — a 
lower  way  and  a  higher  way.  The  lower  way  is 
that  of  the  beginner.     It  is  the  waiting  for  every 

125 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

detail.  "  What  wouldst  Thou  have  me  to  do  this 
day  ?  Shall  I  sweep  three  rooms  or  four  ?  Shall 
I  cleanse  for  the  sanctuary  six  vessels  or  twelve  ? 
Shall  I  prepare  for  Thy  house  the  same  amount 
that  was  consumed  yesterday  ?  "  So  asks  the 
incipient  servant.  And  in  answer  the  heavenly 
Father  gives  the  details  ;  He  issues  ten  command- 
ments. But  as  yet  He  misses  something  in  the 
servant — that  thing  which  the  psalmist  calls 
understanding.  He  would  be  glad  if  the  domestics 
of  His  house  would  exercise  judgment.  He  craves 
in  the  servant  a  second  stage  of  goodness  and 
faithfulness.  Let  us  suppose  that  the  Father 
names  four  rooms  of  His  sanctuary  which  require 
sweeping.  Let  us  suppose  that  on  descending 
from  His  presence  the  servant  finds  that  in  the 
interval  a  fifth  apartment  has  become  soiled. 
Would  it  not  be  desirable  that  in  the  mind  of  him 
or  her  the  understanding  should  supersede  the 
command.  Is  the  fifth  room  to  be  left  uncleaned 
because  there  is  no  verbal  enactment  concerning 
it !  Is  there  none  of  the  Lord's  servants  with 
discernment  enough  to  improvise  an  eleventh 
commandment — to  satisfy  God's  will  instead  of 
His  mere  law  !  That  is  what  the  Father  longs  for, 
that  is  what  the  psalmist  prays  for,  that  is  what 
the  instincts  of  all  hearts  desire. 
126 


THE  QUALIFICATION  OF  A  SERVANT 

Lord,  men  of  old  have  said,  "  Teach  me  Thy 
law "  ;  rather  shall  my  prayer  be,  "  Teach  me 
Thy  will."  My  voice  shalt  Thou  hear  in  the 
morning  ;  but  it  will  be  to  suggest,  not  to  receive, 
orders.  I  should  not  like  to  come  with  the 
inquiry,  **To  how  many  shall  I  minister  this 
day  ?  "  Nay,  my  Father,  rather  would  my  voice 
be  this :  "  I  cry  to  Thee  from  a  land  of  shadows 
where  I  listen  to  the  sigh  of  the  weary.  I  bear 
these  shadows  on  my  heart  up  to  Thy  throne. 
Wilt  Thou  grant  me  Thy  grace  to  dispel  them ! 
Wilt  Thou  give  me  liberty  to  act  for  Thee  without 
command !  Wilt  Thou  let  me  serve  Thine 
interest  where  I  see  it  in  need  !  Wilt  Thou  let 
me  keep  Thy  house  in  order  where  from  Thee  I 
have  received  no  order !  Wilt  Thou  permit  me  to 
forestall  Thy  wants,  to  go  beyond  Thine  expressed 
desires!  Wilt  Thou  give  me  a  commission 
without  detail — a  mandate  to  help  where  I  see 
heaviness,  to  brighten  where  I  meet  burdens,  to 
comfort  where  I  find  calamities,  to  free  where  I 
encounter  fetters,  to  protect  where  I  recognise 
poverty,  to  cheer  where  the  atmosphere  is  chill ! 
Such  would  I  have  my  prayer  to  be.  It  is  a  small 
thing  to  keep  Thy  precept;  I  would  consult  Thy 
pleasure.  It  is  a  light  thing  to  obey  Thy  word ; 
I  would  minister  to  Thy  will.  It  is  an  easy  thing 
127 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

to  avoid  breaking  Thy  law ;  I  would  abstain  from 
violating  Thy  love.  Those  hired  at  the  eleventh 
hour  wait  for  Thy  morning  orders ;  I  know  Thy 
mind  now,  I  know  Thy  wish  now.  I  can  forestall 
Thy  wish.  I  can  understand  Thy  heart.  I  can 
provide  in  advance  for  the  requirements  of  Thy 
love.  My  service  will  be  perfected  when  I  shall 
outrun  Thy  commandments. 


128 


The  Inadequacy  of  Spiritual  Solitude 

"  The  work  is  great  and  large,  and  we  are  separated  upon  the 
wall,  one  far  from  another.  In  what  place  therefore  ye  hear 
the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  resort  ye  thither  unto  us." — 
Neh.  IV.  19,  20. 

The  great  obstacle  to  the  building  of  the  old 
Jerusalem  was  the  distance  in  space  between  the 
workmen  :  "  We  are  separated  upon  the  wall,  one 
far  from  another."  The  great  obstacle  to  the 
building  of  the  new  Jerusalem  is  also  the  distance 
in  space  between  the  workmen.  This  latter  state- 
ment seems  a  paradox.  We  can  understand  how 
a  physical  wall  requires  a  vast  company  to  build 
it.  But  we  have  always  taught  ourselves  to  believe 
that  salvation  is  a  personal  matter  and  that  its 
wall  must  be  constructed  in  solitude.  We  look 
upon  companionship  as  existing  for  outside  things 
— for  the  dance,  for  the  orchestra,  for  the  army, 
for  the  field  of  politics.  But  when  a  man  begins 
to  erect  his  own  soul,  we  expect  him  to  be  alone 
129  I 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

with  God.  We  expect  him  to  stand  in  the  solitary 
place  and  commune  only  with  the  King  of  Kings. 
We  are  wrong  ;  not  thus  shall  I  be  able  to  build 
the  walls  of  the  new  Jerusalem.  The  work  of  my 
salvation  is  not  a  solitary  process.  It  is  a  solemn 
hour ;  but  it  is  the  solemnity,  not  of  silence,  but 
of  crowdedness.  I  must  summon  into  my  sym- 
pathy all  the  sons  of  men.  I  cannot  build  up  the 
virtues  of  my  heart  if  I  am  thinking  only  of  God. 
Would  I  be  humble;  mine  must  be  a  humility 
before  man.  Anyone  could  be  humble  before 
God-  It  does  not  need  a  redeemed  soul  to  shrink 
in  nothingness  beneath  the  stars  of  night.  But 
to  sink  my  interests  before  a  brother,  to  refrain 
from  self-display  in  the  presence  of  an  inferior — 
that  is  humility !  Would  I  be  meek ;  it  must  be 
before  man.  I  dare  not  answer  God ;  all  flesh  is 
silent  in  His  presence.  But  to  be  gentle  with  an 
equal,  to  be  soft  with  a  dependant,  to  be  lenient 
with  a  fallen  soul — that  is  meekness !  Would  I 
be  charitable ;  it  must  be  before  man,  God  needs 
not  my  silver  nor  my  gold ;  they  would  add  no 
drop  to  His  ocean.  But,  to  clothe  a  brother's  rags, 
to  soothe  a  sister's  pain,  to  give  the  children  bread, 
to  help  the  orphans'  cry,  to  bind  the  broken  heart 
and  comfort  the  wounded  conscience — that  is  to 
succour  God,  that  is  charity !  The  walls  of  the 
130 


THE  INADEQUACY  OF  SPIRITUAL  SOLITUDE 

new  Jerusalem  must  be  built  in  the  presence  of 
man. 

My  soul,  when  thou  art  building  thy  character, 

summon  into  thy  sympathy  the  sons  of  men  !     Do 

not  dwell  in  the  presence  of  God  alone !      The 

pillars  of  character  have  no  value  if  they  are  only 

reared   before   God.      How   shalt  thou   test   the 

decline  of  thy  pride  ?     Shalt  thou  stand  before  the 

smoke  and  fire  of  Sinai  and  beat  upon  thy  breast 

and  say,  **  Unclean  "  ?     That  were  a  poor  victory 

over  pride — merely  to  confess  that  thy  lamp  is 

weaker  than  the  sunshine.     But  if  thou  wouldst 

see  the  evidence  of  pride's  decline,  bring  thy  lamp 

into  the  vicinity  of  a  taper  !      Come  and  stand 

before  the  rags  of  a  penitent !     Come  and  match 

thyself  with   Magdalene ;  come  and  pair  thyself 

with  fallen  Peter  1     Can  pride  die  when  thou  art 

standing  on  such  a  mountain  as  that !     Canst  thou 

feel   thy  sin  in  the  presence  of  greater  sinners ! 

Canst  thou  beat  upon  thy  breast  in  beholding  one 

beneath  thee ;  canst  thou  feel  thy  need  of  cleansing 

in  looking  on  one  more  meanly  clad  !     Then  thou 

hast  the  true  beatitude ;  thine  is  the  kingdom  of 

heaven.      It  is  easy  to  kill  thy  self-consciousness 

in   the  valley — in   the  place  where  thou  meetest 

with  God.     But  to  kill  it  on  thy  mount,  to  destroy 

it  in  thy  strong  point,  to  sink  it  in  the  place  where 

131  I  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

thou  meetest  thy  forlorn  brother  or  thy  disgraced 
sister — this  will  earn  Thee  the  blessing  of  the 
Lord.  When  thou  hearest  Christ's  sermon,  let  it 
be  in  the  presence  of  the  multitude;  test  thy 
character  by  its  power  to  stand  before  man  I 


132 


The  Varicdness  of  the  Divine  Benevolence 

"Thy  manifold  mercies."— Neh.  ix.  19. 

**Thy  manifold  mercies"  does  not  mean  the 
same  as  "  Thy  many  mercies."  Mercies  may  be 
numerous  and  yet  not  manifold.  I  may  distribute 
bread  amid  a  whole  multitude  in  a  wilderness.  In 
this  case  my  mercies  have  been  numberless ;  but 
they  have  not  been  manifold.  They  have  been  all 
of  one  kind — donation.  Manifold  mercy  is  mercy 
which  takes  different  forms.  It  is  like  manifold 
architecture;  it  can  build  in  opposite  ways.  I 
think  there  are  four  forms  of  mercy  known  to  man 
— that  which  gives,  that  which  refuses,  that  which 
deprives,  and  that  which  prepares.  To  a  thirsty 
boy  in  good  health  you  give  a  copious  draught  of 
cold  water  ;  to  a  fevered  boy  you  deny  it ;  from  a 
delirious  grasp  you  tear  it ;  finally,  through  heal- 
ing remedies,  you  prepare  for  its  administration 
by-and-by.  Now,  amid  God's  infinite  forms  of 
mercy,  in  relation  to  the  cup  of  life  He  has  these 
four.  There  are  times  when  He  gives  hberally, 
133 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

when  He  says,  "  Drink  abundantly."  There  are 
other  times  in  which  our  hps  are  parched  with 
fever — parched  even  while  they  pray.  We  cry  for 
the  copious  draught,  and  it  does  not  come.  If  it 
came,  it  would  increase  the  heat  of  the  blood  ;  and 
our  Father  refuses  to  send  it.  There  are  times, 
again,  when  the  mere  denial  is  not  sufficient — 
when  the  hand  needs  to  be  dispossessed.  The 
delirious  patient  has  already  grasped  the  cup,  and 
only  a  wrench  will  tear  it  from  his  hold.  The 
mercy  of  our  Father  gives  that  wrench.  It  seems 
to  the  patient  a  harsh  thing,  a  strange  thing  ;  but 
the  deprivation  is  really  a  blessing.  And,  once 
more,  there  are  times  in  which,  instead  of  the  cup 
we  desire,  our  Father  sends  us  things  which  we 
do  not  desire — bitter  medical  draughts  which  are 
very  different  from  the  looked-for  water.  Yet  they 
are  meant  to  prepare  us  for  the  water.  They  are 
sent  to  cool  the  fever  and  make  us  ready  for  the 
copious  draught  to-morrow.  They  seem  to  mock 
us  by  offering  a  crown  of  thorns  instead  of  a  crown 
of  gold  ;  but  in  reality  they  are  a  sanitary  prepara- 
tion for  the  coming  with  safety  of  that  unstinted 
supply  which  at  present  could  only  come  with 
danger.     This,  too,  is  the  mercy  of  our  Father. 

My  soul,  thou  art  now  under  one  of  the  manifold 
mercies  of  God.     I  often  hear  thee  say,  "  I  am 

134 


VARIEDNESS  OF  THE  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE 

under  God's  judgment."  God's  judgment  is  God's 
judging — His  decision  of  what  is  best.  Has  thy 
prayer  been  denied  thee.  So  was  Israel's  when 
she  came  out  of  Egypt.  She  asked  an  entrance 
into  the  Promised  Land ;  she  was  answered  by 
forty  years  in  the  wilderness.  Was  that  judgment ! 
It  was  sublime  mercy.  Was  one  just  released 
from  a  fever  hospital  fit  for  the  arduous  service  of 
the  land  of  Canaan  ?  No  ;  the  granting  of  her 
prayer  would  have  killed  her.  Has  thy  possession 
been  wrenched  from  thy  hand.  So  was  Judah's 
when  she  was  carried  captive  into  Babylon.  Was 
that  judgment !  It  was  her  Father's  mercy.  In 
her  delirium  of  self-will  she  was  grasping  the 
potion  of  her  pride,  and  the  poison  was  entering 
into  her  soul ;  was  it  not  kind  that  the  sick-nurse 
Babylon  should  restrain  her  frantic  arms !  Hast 
thou  received  something  bitter  to  drink  instead  of 
the  water  thou  hast  desired ;  has  thine  experience 
seemed  to  mock  thy  prayer.  So  did  John's.  He 
asked  the  right  hand  in  the  kingdom  and  received 
in  its  place  the  cup  of  fiery  baptism.  Was  that 
judgment !  It  was  the  mercy  of  his  God.  Wouldst 
thou  put  an  oar  into  the  right  hand  of  an  invalid ; 
he  would  miss  the  stroke  on  the  ocean  of  God's 
love.  To  the  beloved  disciple,  to  thee,  the  Father's 
answer  is  not  the  gift,  but  the  preparing  for  the 

135 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

gift.  He  has  laid  up  for  thee  a  crown  of  glory. 
Why  "  laid  up  "  ?  Because  thou  art  not  ready 
for  its  wearing.  Thou  hast  need  to  be  healed  ere 
thou  canst  run  and  not  be  weary.  Thou  hast  ne^d 
of  the  waters  of  Marah  ere  thou  canst  taste  the 
grapes  of  Eshcol.  Thou  hast  need  of  the  bitters 
of  Babylon  ere  thou  hast  right  to  the  liberty  of  the 
tree  of  life.  God's  mercy  may  lie  in  thy  sunshine  ; 
but  methinks,  O  my  soul,  it  is  oftener  found  in  thy 
cloud. 


136 


The  Requisites  for  Perfect  Joy 

"  Death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire."— Rev.  xx.  14. 

There  are,  according  to  the  Bible,  two  things 
which  make  this  world  unhappy — disease  of  body 
and  imprisonment  of  soul.  The  former  is  here 
expressed  by  the  word  "  death,"  the  latter  by  the 
word  "  hell "  or  "  Hades."  The  happiness  of 
heaven  is  said  to  lie,  not  in  the  addition  of  new 
colours,  but  in  the  removal  of  these  two  obstructive 
elements.  Did  it  ever  strike  you  how  the  joys  of 
the  future  life  are  always  described  as  negative. 
There  is  to  be  "no  more  sea,"  "  no  more  curse," 
**  no  more  pain,"  "  no  more  sorrow,"  no  **  shut 
gates "  because  "  no  night."  The  men  of  the 
coming  city  are  to  hunger  no  more,  thirst  no 
more,  be  oppressed  with  heat  no  more,  shed  tears 
no  more.  Whence  this  negative  description  of  the 
Christian's  heaven  ?  Other  religions  painted  their 
paradise  in  added  rays  of  beauty;  why  is  the 
Christian  ideal  merely  the  taking  away  of  some- 
thing ?     I  will  tell  you.     It  is  because  in  the  view 

137 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

of  Christianity  this  present  world  is  not  deficient 
in  perfect  beauty  ;  it  is  prevented  from  enjoying  its 
beauty,  and  it  is  so  prevented  by  these  two  things 
— death  and  sin — the  diseased  body  and  the 
imprisoned  soul.  I  am  thoroughly  at  one  with 
the  evangelist  in  thinking  that  on  its  positive  side 
there  is  nothing  wrong  with  the  present  world. 
We  are  constantly  reminded  by  the  pulpit  of  our 
sense  of  the  insufficiency  of  this  earthly  life.  For 
my  part  I  deny  that  I  have  this  sense  of  insuffi- 
ciency. I  want  nothing  better  than  this  world — 
if  it  would  last.  What  keeps  it  from  lasting  is  the 
presence  of  two  things — death  and  sin.  Death 
steals  my  friends  ;  sin  blights  my  friendships.  The 
one  robs  me  of  a  presence ;  the  other  bereaves  me 
of  an  ideal.  I  am  told  that  earthly  joys  are 
evanescent.  No ;  it  is  their  objects  that  are 
evanescent.  I  do  not  tire  of  my  flowers;  but 
autumn  withers  them.  I  do  not  transfer  my  love ; 
but  sin  destroys  the  identity  of  its  object.  St. 
John  tells  us  to  love  not  the  world  ;  but  why  ? 
Not  because  it  is  bad,  but  because  it  is  fleeting — 
because  it  "  passeth  away."  If  something  would 
arrest  its  passing,  if  something  would  give  it  per- 
manence, if  something  would  endow  it  with 
perpetual  bloom,  we  should  be  able  to  say,  "  This 


138 


THE  REQUISITES  FOR  PERFECT  JOY 

And  such,  O  Lord,  is  promised  in  the  words, 
"  Death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire." 
Thou  hai:t  offered  to  destroy  the  two  enemies  to 
my   perfect   enjoyment   of   beauty — the   diseased 
body  and  the  imprisoned  soul.     I  need  no  lovelier 
fields,   no   fairer   woods   or   flowers.     I   need  no 
sweeter  harps,  no  lutes  of  richer  tone.     I  need  no 
dearer  ties  than  those  which  bind  me  to  earth  and 
home.     But  my  two  enemies  are  sowing  tares  in 
the  field ;  my  two  enemies  are  making  discord  in 
the  music  ;  my  two  enemies  are  loosing  the  earthly 
ties.     It  is  not  to  get  free  of  earth  I  ask  Thy 
salvation  ;  it  is  to  keep  it,  to  preserve  it,  nay,  for 
the  first  time  really  to  possess  it.     I  often  pray  for 
entrance  into  Thy  heavenly  glory;    yet  what  I 
should  ask  is  entrance  into  Thine  earthly  glory. 
The  colours  I  love  here  are  fit  to  be  loved  yonder 
if  they  were  only  stripped  of  death  and  hell.     Not 
brighter   bloom   but   more   unfading  bloom,   not 
fairer  tints   but  more  abiding  tints,  not  lovelier 
forms  but  more  undying  forms,  is  what  my  spirit 
craves.     Men   speak   of  earthly  vanity ;    but   its 
vanity   is    its    fleetingness.      The    defect    of    its 
pleasures  is  that  they  vanish.     Free  them  from 
this  vanity,  O    Lord!     Redeem   them   from   the 
taint  of  perishableness  !     Breathe  into  them  Thine 
own   eternal   life!      Perpetuate   them   with  Thy 

139 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

presence,  immortalise  them  with  Thine  indwell- 
ing !  Make  love  lasting  ;  make  friendship  fadeless  ; 
make  charity  changeless ;  make  kindness  constant ; 
make  warmth  of  heart  winterless ;  make  delight  in 
beauty  deathless ;  make  the  taste  for  music  tire- 
less ;  make  the  social  hour  sinless !  Our  earth 
will  be  Thy  heaven  when  we  have  got  rid  of  death 
and  hell. 


140 


The  Deepest  Stage  of  Calamity 

•'  The  spirit  of  a  man  will  sustain  his  infirmity ;  but  a  wounded 
spirit  who  can  bear  ?  " — Prov.  xviii.  14. 

The  idea  is  that  a  calamity  affects  us,  not 
according  to  the  weight  of  the  stroke,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  state  of  our  thoughts.  The  spirit  of  a 
man  is  his  mental  state  as  distinguished  from  his 
outward  circumstances.  The  proverb  says  that 
an  outward  misfortune  influences  the  life,  not  in 
proportion  to  its  actual  severity,  but  in  proportion 
to  the  resources  of  the  mind.  I  am  profoundly 
convinced  that  this  is  true.  Two  men  take  a 
fever  at  the  same  time  ;  one  dies,  the  other 
recovers.  The  popular  view  is  that  in  the  former 
case  the  physical  stroke  was  more  powerful.  Yet 
in  itself  it  may  have  been  weaker.  The  man  who 
died  may  have  succumbed  to  the  fever  because  he 
was  down  in  spirit  when  the  fever  seized  him. 
Two  men  meet  with  a  simultaneous  bereavement. 
One,  though  deeply  grieved,  is  not  overwhelmed ; 
the  other  breaks  his  heart  and  sinks  into  the 
grave.  Shall  we  say  that  to  the  latter  the  stroke 
141 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

was  heavier  than  to  the  former  ?  No ;  the  differ- 
ence Hes,  not  in  the  heaviness  of  the  stroke,  but 
in  the  spot  whereon  it  fell.  It  lies  in  the  contrast 
of  their  inward  state.  The  n:an  who  outlives 
his  loss  does  so  by  reason  of  a  strong  hope — the 
hope,  nay,  the  sight,  of  a  land  beyond  death's  sea. 
The  man  who  is  killed  by  his  bereavement  is  so 
killed  by  reason  of  an  eclipse  of  hope — by  reason 
of  a  mental  cloud  which  has  obscured  his  rain- 
bow of  promise.  That  which  prostrates  us  and 
that  which  supports  us  is  in  every  case,  not  a  thing, 
but  a  thought.  We  speak  of  the  "ills  which 
flesh  is  heir  to."  I  think  we  look  for  the  black  in 
the  wrong  direction;  we  should  say,  the  "ills 
which  spirit  is  heir  to."  All  the  crowning  calami- 
ties of  life  are  in  the  thinking— not  in  the  striking. 
The  crushing  wound  comes  ever  from  within. 
The  friend  who  is  separated  from  you  by  death 
may  be  really  less  removed  than  the  friend  who 
goes  from  you  to  a  foreign  country ;  yet  between 
the  two  cases  there  is  no  comparison  in  the  degree 
of  your  sorrow.  Why  is  this?  It  lies  in  the 
thought.  The  foreign  country  has  a  name  in  your 
heart ;  the  dwelling-place  of  the  dead  has  as  yet 
no  name.  It  is  the  idea  that  makes  the  difference 
between  separation  and  bereavement.  Both  equally 
for  the  time  miss  "  the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand 
142 


THE  DEEPEST  STAGE  OF  CALAMITY 

and  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still " ;  but  in  the 
one  there  is  the  hope  of  future  communion,  in 
the  other  there  may  be  a  cloud  which  obscures 
to-morrow's  sky. 

Therefore,  O  Father  of  Lights,  show  Thy  light 
within !  There  lies  the  possibility  of  a  mortal 
wound — not  in  the  storm,  not  in  the  cold,  not  in 
the  battle.  Often  have  I  been  struck  with  the 
picture  of  Thy  Christ  upon  the  sea.  He  walked 
upon  the  raging  waters  and  never  sought  to  still 
their  raging  till  He  reached  the  ship  of  human 
life ;  and  then  He  spoke  the  mandate,  not  to  the 
waves,  but  to  the  soul :  **  Peace  ;  be  still !  "  Often 
have  I  asked,  Why  did  He  begin  with  the 
seemingly  least  aggressive  ?  I  see  it  now,  O  my 
Father.  I  see  that  the  stormiest  spot  is  and  has 
ever  been,  not  the  wave,  but  the  soul.  I  see  that 
it  is  my  heart  that  first  needs  to  receive  the 
mandate,  **  Peace ;  be  still !  "  I  see  that  nothing 
can  submerge  me  if  my  spirit  be  not  submerged. 
Therefore  it  is  for  my  soul  that  first  I  pray.  It  is 
to  me  I  would  have  Thee  first  say,  "  Peace !  " 
Let  Thy  Christ  put  the  rainbow  in  my  heart  ere  it 
is  stretched  across  the  flood !  The  cloud  of 
to-day  will  not  kill  me  if  the  sun  of  to-morrow 
is  clear;  Hght  to-morrow's  sun,  O  Lord!  The 
bleakness  of  winter  will  not  daunt  me  if  my  faith 

143 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

makes  the  springtime  near ;  plant  the  faith  of  the 
spring,  O  Lord  !  The  partings  by  death  will  not 
chill  me  if  the  hope  of  reunion  bring  cheer ;  shed 
the  hope  of  reunion,  O  Lord !  I  can  bear  the 
storm  on  the  sea  if  the  calm  has  entered  my  soul ; 
Thy  best  comfort  is  the  unwounded  spirit. 


144 


The  Religious  Ground  of  Light-heartedness 

"  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord."— Ps.  lv.  22. 

There  has  always  been  in  the  world  a  great 
admiration  for  carelessness.  A  young  man  has  a 
pride  in  saying,  "  I  don't  care."  When  a  command 
is  imposed  on  him  by  a  higher  authority,  he  often 
resists  it ;  but  his  main  motive  in  the  resistance  is 
to  show  the  absence  of  care.  When  the  advice  of 
a  friend  arrests  him  in  a  downward  path,  he 
frequently  brushes  it  aside ;  but  he  is  not  so  much 
actuated  by  love  of  the  downward  path  as  by  the 
wish  to  appear  reckless  and  free.  Recklessness  is 
to  him  the  synonym  for  manliness.  Now,  what  is 
it  that  in  our  young  days  makes  this  spirit  to  us 
so  attractive  ?  It  is  its  apparent  resemblance  to 
something  which  is  really  its  contrary — the 
rehgious  life.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
Christian  absence  of  care — a  freedom  from  weight, 
anxiety,  depression.  But  you  will  observe,  it  is 
an  absence  of  care,  not  an  annulling  of  it.  The 
social  epicurean  tells  his  comrade  to  cast  away  his 
145  ^ 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

burden ;  the  Christian  tells  his  comrade,  not  to 
cast  it  away,  but  to  lay  it  somewhere  else  :  "  Cast 
thy  burden  on  the  Lord."  There  is  a  very  great 
difference  between  the  two  commands.  It  is  the 
difference  between  throwing  your  money  into  the 
sea  and  putting  it  in  a  bank  beyond  the  possible 
risk  of  failure.  A  Christian's  care  is  always  to 
him  his  money — his  treasure.  He  does  not  want 
to  lose  it ;  he  would  place  it  nowhere  except  in 
hands  where  it  had  no  chance  of  being  neglected. 
Let  us  say,  for  example,  that  you  are  anxious 
about  the  future  of  your  child.  The  social 
epicurean  will  tell  you,  **  Live  for  the  day  ;  do 
not  look  forward ;  enjoy  the  present  hour  and  let 
to-morrow  shift  for  itself."  But  the  Christian 
will  say :  "  You  will  best  live  for  the  present  by 
making  to-morrow  sure.  If  you  want  to  enjoy 
the  hour  you  need  not  become  cold  to  your  child's 
future — you  need  not  even  think  less  about  it. 
You  have  only  to  put  to-morrow  in  other  hands — 
in  safer  hands— in  God's  hands.  It  is  not  forget- 
fulness  you  need ;  it  is  mindfulness  without 
mourning.  It  is  not  the  trampling  of  care  under 
your  feet,  but  the  transference  of  care  to  another 
bosom.  Destroy  it  not,  ignore  it  not,  bury  it  not, 
escape  it  not ;  but  take  it  up  tenderly,  fold  it  up 
cautiously,  and  lay  it  on  the  heart  of  the  Lord." 
146 


RELIGIOUS  GROUND  OF  LIGHT^HEARTEDNESS 

O  Thou  who  on  the  ocean  of  Thy  love  bearest 
with  their  freight  of  care  many  ships  that  pass  in 
the  night,  I  launch  my  laden  soul  in  Thee.  I 
come  not  to  get  the  world's  peace — the  peace  of 
emancipation  from  unselfish  interests.  I  come  to 
get  the  opposite  peace — Thy  peace — the  peace  of 
knowing  that  my  unselfish  interests  are  in  safe 
hands.  I  do  not  bid  my  burden  good-bye  when  I 
give  it  to  Thee ;  rather  am  I  sure  that  I  shall  see 
it  again — made  precious,  glorified,  transformed 
into  a  weight  of  gold.  If  my  boy  has  gone  to  sea, 
I  am  not  made  peaceful  because  I  have  torn  him 
from  my  heart,  but  because  on  the  sea  I  have 
beheld  Thine  own  footprints  and  I  know  he  is 
with  Thee.  I  am  light  by  reason  of  Thy  weighted- 
ness.  I  would  not  have  my  debts  unpaid  even  if 
I  received  a  discharge.  I  should  like  to  know 
that  somebody  has  taken  up  their  weight.  What 
matters  it  to  me  that  I  am  liberated  if  by  my  very 
liberation  my  brother  is  rendered  poor  !  Will  no 
one  make  possible  what  is  impossible  to  me ! 
Will  no  one  pay  to  my  brother  what  I  owe !  Will 
no  one  fill  up  what  I  have  left  behind  in  deeds  of 
charity  and  love !  Thoti  wilt,  O  Christ.  I  send 
Thee  to  my  waste  places  on  the  wings  of  the 
morning.  Finish  what  I  have  left  in  fragments  ! 
Build  what  I  have  not  even  begun  !  Put  Thy 
147  K  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

hand  on  what  I  have  passed  by !  Kindle  what  I 
have  allowed  to  be  cold  !  Water  the  flowers  I 
have  let  wither  !  Comfort  the  hearts  I  have  not 
consoled  !  Rest  the  lives  I  have  ruffled  !  Beautify 
the  souls  I  have  bruised  !  Delight  the  spirits  I 
have  made  downcast !  Fan  the  embers  whose 
fires  I  have  caused  to  fade !  I  shall  be  free  from 
care  when  I  have  cast  my  burden  on  Thee, 


148 


The  Christian  Palliation  of  Pain 

"  When  they  persecute  you  in  this  city,  flee  ye  into  another.' 
— Matt.  x.  23. 

The  days  of  persecution  are  past ;  has  this  text 
lost  its  meaning?  No,  it  is  to  my  mind  the 
revelation  of  an  eternal  fact — a  fact  which  dis- 
tinguishes Christianity  from  all  other  reHgions. 
Christ's  remedy  for  the  immediate  pressure  of 
grief  is  one  peculiarly  His  own.  Consider  the 
remedies  proposed  by  some  other  faiths.  The 
Buddhist  says  :  **  When  you  are  oppressed  by  any 
sorrow,  think  how  all  your  desires  will  be  stilled 
in  death."  The  Brahman  says :  *'  When  you  are 
oppressed  by  any  sorrow,  remember  how  all  finite 
things  are  illusions."  The  Stoic  says:  *'When 
you  are  oppressed  by  any  sorrow,  keep  your  mind 
on  things  that  suppress  emotion."  The  Jew  says : 
"  When  you  are  oppressed  by  any  sorrow,  seek 
out  and  expiate  the  sin  you  have  committed." 
Christ  says  none  of  these  things.  His  recom- 
mendation is :  "  When  you  are  oppressed  by  any 
sorrow,  rest  your  thoughts  as  much  as  possible 
149 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

upon  some  joy  that  remains ;  when  you  are  per- 
secuted in  one  city,  flee  into  another."  I  think 
that  we  of  modern  days  need  this  text  as  much 
as  any  in  the  Bible.  Our  danger  in  grief  is  that 
of  forgetting  our  untouched  joys.  We  have  all 
some  city  of  refuge — some  spot  left  green.  Christ 
says  our  first  duty  is  to  flee  thither.  He  says  we 
shall  be  better  able  to  remedy  any  stroke  of 
fortune  if  in  the  first  instance  we  seek  comfort 
in  another  direction.  He  practised  this  Himself 
in  His  cures.  A  paralytic  came  to  be  healed; 
Jesus  said,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee."  Was 
not  that  irrelevant — to  promise  a  man  forgiveness 
of  sin  who  wanted  cure  for  paralysis  ?  Yes,  but 
in  the  irrelevancy  lay  the  beauty.  The  best 
prelude  to  curing  a  man's  paralysis  is  to  get  him 
over  to  the  sunny  side  of  the  street — to  fix  his 
mind  upon  an  actually  existing  joy.  So,  too,  when 
Christ  tells  the  labouring  and  laden  in  body  that 
He  will  give  them  rest  to  their  souls,  it  seems  an 
irrelevancy ;  but  it  is  not.  What  better  prelude 
to  a  medical  cure  than  a  flash  of  sunshine  in  the 
soul ;  what  better  preparation  for  a  physical  im- 
provement than  a  state  of  inward  rest !  Our 
Lord  would  have  us  first  get  out  from  the 
persecuted  into  the  unpersecuted  city  and  brace 
ourselves  for  struggle  by  an  hour  of  peace. 

150 


THE  CHRISTIAN  PALLIATION  OF  PAIN 

I  thank  Thee,  O  Lord,  that  Thy  cure  for  pain 
is  gladness.  All  human  teachers  have  sought  to 
add  to  my  pain.  In  my  hour  of  sorrow  I  will 
not  go  to  any  of  these.  I  will  not  go  to  the 
Buddhist — to  be  reminded  that  I  am  a  dying 
creature.  I  will  not  go  to  the  Brahman — to  be 
told  that  life  is  an  illusion.  I  will  not  go  to  the 
Stoic — to  be  taught  that  emotion  is  vain.  I  will 
not  go  to  the  Jew — to  be  informed  I  must  expiate 
a  secret  sin.  Unto  whom  can  I  go  but  unto 
Thee;  Thou  alone  meetest  my  sorrow  with  the 
words  of  life.  All  others  meet  it  with  the  words 
of  death.  When  I  come  to  them  with  my  pain 
they  refer  me  for  refuge  to  another  pain.  But 
Thou  healest  my  pain  by  a  joy.  Thou  remindest 
me  of  a  spot  of  sunshine  which  I  have  overlooked. 
Thou  puttest  into  my  hand  the  key  of  doors 
which  I  have  neglected  to  unlock.  Thou  showest 
me  green  meadows  which  I  have  passed  unheeded 
by.  Thou  pointest  me  to  gems  which  I  have 
dropped  on  the  road  and  which  are  waiting  to 
be  gathered.  Thou  sayest,  "  Consider  how  many 
lilies  of  the  field  still  grow,  how  many  birds  of 
the  air  still  sing."  Thou  wouldst  have  me 
remember  the  blessings  that  are  unblighted,  the 
refuges  that  remain,  the  comforts  that  yet  crown 
me.     Thou  wouldst  have  me  know   the  wealth 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

that  is  unwasted,  the  pastures  that  are  preserved;  | 

the  friends  that  are  not  faded.     Thou  wouldst  | 
have  me  note  how  much  worse  things  might  have 

been — how  many  blasts  did  not  blow,  how  many  i 

seas   did   not   swell,  how   many  clouds  did   not  ' 

cluster.     Thou  wouldst  have  me  learn  in  my  city  i 

of  persecution   to   count   the   cities  which   have  j 

not  been  persecuted.  I 


152 


The  Christianas  Highest  Reward 

"The   righteous   shall    be   recompensed   in    the   earth." — 
Prov.  XI.  31. 

I  UNDERSTAND  the  emphatic  words  to  be,  "  in 
the  earth."  There  never  had  been  any  doubt 
about  the  final  reward  of  the  righteous ;  but  there 
were  evidently  some  who  were  beginning  to  say : 
"  It  must  be  reserved  for  another  world ;  this 
earth  of  ours  is  indifferent  to  moral  distinctions." 
The  writer  of  this  proverb  cries,  "  No ;  my  reward 
will  be  here."  I  do  not  think  he  meant  that  it 
must  come  in  his  present  life.  Remember,  the 
Jew  held  that  he  was  to  come  back  to  this  earth 
again  on  the  Resurrection  Morning.  The  whole 
point  of  the  passage  is  that,  either  now  or  here- 
after, either  to-day  or  to-morrow,  the  righteous 
man  will  see  the  rectification  of  things  below — 
the  crooked  made  straight,  the  rough  places  made 
plain,  the  mountains  abased  and  the  valleys 
exalted.  I  doubt  if  a  son  of  Israel  would  have 
thanked  you  for  the  fairest  flowers  and  the  loveliest 
woods  in  a  world  divorced  from  earthly  memories ; 

^53 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

his  whole  notion  of  immortality  was  the  future 
glorifying  of  his  present  actions.  And  I  believe 
that  this  is  also  the  immortal  hope  of  every 
Christian.  Did  you  ever  ask  yourself,  What  is 
that  recompense  which  a  Christian  saint  desires  ? 
Is  it  a  paradise  in  the  seventh  heaven  which  the 
tumult  of  earth  will  not  reach  ?  Is  it  a  flight  to 
regions  unknown  and  at  present  unknowable  ?  Is 
it  the  wearing  of  foreign  purple  and  the  hearing 
of  foreign  music  and  the  engagement  in  foreign 
embassies  ?  A  Christian  in  the  future  life  may 
occasionally  have  all  these  things ;  but  he  will 
deem  none  of  them  his  recompense.  What  he 
wants  is  not  a  redemption  from  the  past  but  a 
redemption  of  the  past.  He  seeks  a  river  clear 
as  crystal ;  but  he  seeks  it  in  the  muddy  haunts 
of  time — "in  the  midst  of  the  street."  He 
desires  a  tree  whose  leaves  are  life-giving ;  but  he 
wants  it  for  **  the  healing  of  the  nations."  He 
craves  a  song  of  exquisite  melody ;  but  its  subject 
is  to  be  the  glory  of  a  human  cross — "  worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain."  He  searches  for  a 
precious  emerald  ;  but  he  does  so  in  a  rainbow  of 
earthly  tears.  He  longs  to  be  able  to  cry,  "  Who 
are  these  that  are  arrayed  in  white  robes  ?  "  but 
the  answer  he  would  like  to  receive  is  this :  **  These 
are  they  that  came  out  of  great  tribulation." 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HIGHEST  REWARD 

Lord,  wherever  my  spirit  may  dwell  hereafter, 
the  recompense  I  seek  for  my  present  deed  is  that 
the  earth  may  be  blessed  in  it.  I  gave  a  coin 
yesterday  to  a  tattered  woman,  and  she  invoked 
all  Thy  chariots  of  blessing  to  descend  upon  me. 
She  thought  she  was  drawing  profusely  on  Thy 
stores;  to  me,  what  she  asked  of  Thee  seemed 
inadequate.  It  was  not  treasure  from  above  that 
I  wanted  from  Thee ;  it  was  treasure  from  below. 
I  wished  some  day  to  find  that  my  coin  had  been 
a  turning-point  in  this  woman's  fortune — that  it 
had  given  her  new  hope,  new  comfort,  new 
courage,  new  belief  in  man,  new  confidence  in 
Thee.  For  any  good  I  do,  O  my  Father,  it  is 
earth  that  I  should  like  to  be  recompensed.  I 
plant  not  my  seed  in  the  dust  that  a  flower  may 
spring  elsewhere.  It  is  this  spot  I  would  have 
Thee  deck  with  glory.  I  would  have  the  fir-tree 
come  forth  in  the  place  where  the  thorn  grew ;  I 
would  have  the  myrtle  wave  in  the  soil  where  the 
briar  was  expected.  No  unearthly  wreath  would 
compensate  me  for  a  life  of  devotion  to  Thy  poor. 
It  is  my  devotion  I  would  see  wreathed — the  result 
of  my  labours,  the  travail  of  my  soul.  Sanctify 
my  sacrifices,  O  Lord  !  Give  weight  to  my  words 
of  counsel ;  preserve  my  promptings  of  comfort ; 
re-echo    my   rousings    to    penitence !      May  my 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

charity  bring  moral   cheer ;    may  my  sympathy  j 

bring  inward  strength ;  may  my  kindness  bring  j 

life's   rekindling!      May  I  expel   one   drunkard's  i 

demon ;    may  I  heal   one   profligate's   pollution  ;  j 

may  I  restore  one  fainter's  faith  ;  may  I  brighten  ! 

one  wanderer's  way ;  may  I  call  one  hapless  spirit  -j 

home  !     Then  shall  mine  be  the  most  perfect  of  1 

all  recompenses — the  recompense  on  earth  I  ' 


156 


The  Illuminating:  Power  of  Righteousness 

"The  sun  of  righteousness  shall  arise  with  healing  in  his 
wings." — Malachi  iv.  2. 

There  is  nothing  which  illuminates  this  world 
like  the  vision  of  righteousness,  and  therefore  there 
is  nothing  which  heals  doubt  like  that  vision.  The 
reason  is  that  only  in  the  vision  of  righteousness  do 
I  learn  my  superiority  to  Nature.  Every  other 
vision  dwarfs  me.  The  glor}-  of  the  natural  sun 
makes  me  pale.  The  vastness  of  the  mighty 
firmament  makes  me  humble.  The  flash  of  the 
lightning  makes  me  tremble.  The  height  of  the 
mountain  makes  me  shrink.  The  depth  of  the  ocean 
makes  me  feel  shallow.  The  sight  of  disease  and 
death  make  me  identify  myself  with  the  flower  that 
fades  and  the  bird  that  dies.  But  when  I  see  a 
righteous  man  I  see  something  at  variance  with 
natural  law — Professor  Huxley  himself  tells  me 
so.  The  law  of  Nature,  the  law  of  Evolution,  is 
the  survival  of  the  strongest.  But  the  law  of 
Righteousness  is  the  refusal  of  the  strongest  to 
survive  at  the  expense  of  the  weakest.     It  is  the 

157 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

insistence  of  the  strong  to  share  the  life  of  the 
weak — to  appropriate  their  burdens,  to  wear  their 
infirmities.  It  is  a  law  which  never  could  have 
been  made  by  physical  nature,  which  interferes  with 
physical  nature,  which  in  this  sense  is  SM/)^rnatural. 
My  vision  of  a  righteous  man  is  fitted  to  heal  all  my 
scepticism.  It  tells  me  that  a  human  life  is  some- 
thing unique,  something  revolutionary,  something 
above  the  common  clay.  It  tells  me  that  a  human 
soul  can  do  what  even  the  stars  cannot  do — make  a 
new  law  which  will  override  the  old.  It  tells  me 
that,  with  all  its  seeming  insignificance,  the  little 
stream  in  the  heart  of  a  man  has  outweighed  the 
wonder  of  the  whole  ocean — has  turned  the  down- 
ward into  an  upward  current  and  led  the  way  to  a 
higher  plane.  The  righteous  man  is  no  longer  a 
cipher.  He  was  born  a  cipher,  like  the  leaves  and 
the  grass.  But  he  has  reversed  the  order  of 
science.  He  has  made  a  new  law — the  death  of 
the  strong  for  the  weak.  He  has  arrested  the  first 
course  of  Nature.  He  has  said :  **  You  shall  no 
longer  live  for  self-preservation,  but  for  the  preser- 
vation of  others."  He  has  made  the  winds  his 
missionaries,  the  mines  his  almoners,  the  seas 
his  road  to  brotherhood,  the  steam  his  flag  of 
union,  the  electricity  his  voice  of  fellowship,  the 
light  a  framer  of  his  neighbour's  image,  the  heat  a 
158 


ILLUMINATING  POWER  OF  RIGHTEOUSNESS 

warmer  of  his  neighbour's  hearth,  the  herb  a 
soother  of  his  neighbour's  pain.  The  sacrificial 
man  is  the  man  that  has  conquered  Nature;  the 
vision  of  righteousness  heals  my  despair. 

Son  of  Man,  Thou  hast  illumined  my  hope. 
Men,  even  good  men,  have  underrated  Thine 
illumination.  They  have  sought  it  only  on  the 
brow  of  Olivet.  To  me  the  brightest  proof  of 
immortal  life  is  Thy  Calvary.  To  me  Thy  rising 
is  less  wonderful  than  Thy  righteousness.  In  Thy 
rising  Thou  hast  escaped  Nature;  but  in  Thy 
righteousness  Thou  hast  conquered  Nature.  In 
Thy  rising  Thou  has  shown  that  material  forces 
could  not  hold  Thee;  but  in  Thy  righteousness 
Thou  hast  held  them.  Nature  had  cried,  "  Let  the 
weak  go  to  the  wall,  let  the  feeble  fade,  let  the 
degenerate  die !  "  Thou  saidst,  "  Nay,  it  shall 
not  be  so."  Thou  hast  borne  on  Thy  bosom  what 
Nature  has  passed  by.  Thou  hast  gathered  the 
fragments  she  has  cast  like  rubbish  to  the  void. 
Thou  hast  brought  the  destitute  from  the  desert ; 
Thou  hast  called  the  tainted  from  the  tombs; 
Thou  hast  raised  the  squahd  from  the  swine; 
Thou  hast  freed  the  blind  from  their  bars ;  Thou 
hast  washed  the  leper  from  his  loathsomeness; 
Thou  hast  lifted  the  palsied  from  their  prostration ; 
Thou  hast  relieved  the  halt  from  their  helplessness ; 

159 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Thou  hast  rescued  the  turbulent  from  their  tossing 
on  the  sea.  I  need  not  wait  for  Easter  Morn  to 
see  my  immortality.  That  morning  when  I  met 
Thee  carrying  Thy  cross,  that  midday  when  I 
found  Thee  waiting  at  Samaria's  well,  that  evening 
when  I  saw  Thee  breaking  to  man  his  bread,  I 
knew  that  earth  was  passed  and  a  new  world 
begun. 


i6g 


Latent  Piety 

*'  With  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.**— i  Peter  i.  8. 

The  climax  of  every  emotion  is  silence.  The 
climax  of  anger  is  not  the  thunder,  not  the  earth- 
quake, not  the  fire,  not  even  the  still  small  voice ; 
it  is  the  absence  of  any  voice  at  all;  we  say 
habitually,  "  He  was  speechless  with  rage."  The 
climax  of  grief  is  not  the  cry,  not  the  shriek,  not 
the  paroxysm ;  it  is  the  numbness,  the  deadness, 
the  torpor,  the  insensibility  to  all  around.  The 
poet  tells  how  a  bereaved  wife  in  seeing  her 
**  warrior  dead  "  neither  swooned  nor  cried.  She 
was  in  the  climax  of  grief — silence ;  to  bring  her 
down  from  the  climax  she  had  to  be  made  to 
weep.  And  the  climax  of  praise  or  joy  is  silence. 
Let  me  put  a  question.  When  did  you  experience 
most  difficulty  in  expressing  your  admiration  of  a 
thing?  Was  it  not  when  you  were  thoroughly 
carried  away  with  rapture  !  A  girl  plays  a 
piece  of  music  with  great  brilliancy.  She  receives 
gushing  compliments  from  all  but  one.  That  one 
i6i  L 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

has  been  sitting  in  rapt  attention  all  the  time  of 
the  performance,  yet  at  the  close  he  only  says, 
"  Thank  you."  I  should  esteem  his  the  greatest 
praise  of  all.  His  silence  comes  from  the  "joy 
unspeakable  " — from  an  admiration  too  deep  for 
words,  too  high  for  compliments,  too  intense  for 
plaudits.  Now,  the  climax  of  the  praise  of  God  is 
of  this  description.  Carlyle  has  said,  "  Speech  is 
silver,  but  silence  is  golden."  I  think  the  harps  in 
the  new  Jerusalem  are  never  so  golden  as  when 
nobody  strikes  their  chords.  Did  you  ever  ask 
yourself  when  it  was  that  according  to  the  Book 
of  Revelation  there  was  "silence  in  heaven  for 
the  space  of  half  an  hour."  It  was  when  the 
seventh  seal  was  opened  and  the  prayers  of  the 
saints  ascended  as  incense  to  the  Father.  In 
other  words,  the  moment  of  silence  was  the 
moment  of  ecstatic  praise  ;  thanksgiving  expressed 
itself  in  speechless  adoration.  There  are  members 
of  the  choir  invisible  who  at  times  cannot  sing — 
not  because  they  have  hung  their  harps  upon  the 
willows,  but  because  they  see  no  willows  on  which 
to  hang  them  ;  they  are  too  full  of  joy  to  sing  ;  the 
fulness  of  their  joy  makes  it  unspeakable. 

My  soul,  do  not  underrate  thyself  because  thou 
art  a  silent  member  of  God's  choir !     There  are 
those  that   can  lead   in  prayer ;    there  are  those 
162 


LATENT  PIETY 

that  can  expound  Scripture  ;  there  are  those 
that  can  sing  to  the  sick  ;  there  are  those  that 
can  teach  Sunday-schools.  Honour  their  gift  of 
speech,  esteem  it,  reverence  it !  But  never  forget 
that  there  is  also  a  gift  of  silence  !  I  have  read 
that  the  light  struck  Saul  of  Tarsus  blind; 
remember,  the  same  light  may  have  struck  thee 
dumb.  There  is  a  love  which  cannot  tell  its 
dearest  of  the  depth  that  lies  within  it.  It  feels 
that  any  speech  would  be  so  inadequate  as  to  be 
equivalent  to  denial;  therefore  it  keeps  silent. 
Hast  thou  pondered  the  comfort  of  the  thought 
that  the  Father  "  seeth  in  secret."  I  know  thou 
hast  pondered  the  terror  of  the  thought.  I  have 
heard  thee  say  a  thousand  times,  **  What  an 
awful  reflection  it  is  that  the  sins  which  men  do 
not  see  are  open  to  the  eye  of  my  Father  I  "  Yes, 
but  what  of  the  virtues  men  do  not  see  ! 
Remember,  there  is  an  unspoken  goodness  as  well 
as  an  unspoken  evil.  Thou  hast  powers  within 
thee  for  which  the  world  gives  thee  no  credit. 
Thou  hast  love  which  cannot  la\  s'l  itself;  trust 
which  cannot  tell  itself ;  sympathy  which  cannot 
shed  itself.  Thou  hast  a  fervour  that  does  not 
flow,  a  gladness  that  does  not  glow,  a  strength 
that  does  not  show.  Thy  rose  is  underground; 
thy  goodness  is  unfound ;  thy  music  has  no  sound. 
163  L  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Can  there  be  any  greater  rest  than  the  faith  in 
the  All-seeing,  All-hearing  !  The  light  thou  canst 
not  radiate  has  been  reflected.  The  enthusiasm 
thou  canst  not  articulate  has  been  re-echoed. 
The  love  thou  canst  not  imprint  on  the  canvas 
has  been  photographed  on  the  air  of  heaven,  and 
thy  joy,  though  unspeakable,  is  full  of  glory. 


164 


The  Sweetening  of  the  Mind  in  Sorrow 

"  Lest  any  root  of  bitterness  trouble  you."— Heb.  xii.  15. 

There  is  a  great  difference  between  feeling  a 
thing  deeply  and  feeling  a  thing  bitterly ;  in  other 
words,  between  the  waters  of  affliction  and  the 
waters  of  Marah.  I  would  express  the  difference 
by  saying  that  in  the  waters  of  bitterness  there  is 
always  more  or  less  a  sense  of  having  received 
personal  injustice.  A  man  may  endure  the  deepest 
grief  not  only  without  a  sense  of  injustice,  but 
with  a  firm  conviction  that  he  has  deserved  it ; 
I  should  call  these  tears  the  waters  of  penitence. 
Or  he  may  endure  deep  grief  with  a  firm  convic- 
tion that  he  will  see  light  some  day ;  I  should 
call  these  tears  the  waters  of  the  cup  of  Geth- 
semane.  But  there  is  a  third  way  in  which 
he  may  meet  sorrow  ;  he  may  see  his  own 
image  in  the  stream  and  weep  over  it  ;  I 
should  call  these  tears  the  waters  of  Marah 
or  bitterness.  I  should  define  the  feeling  of  bitter- 
ness as  *'  self-pity."      It  is  sorrow  for  oneself  as 

165 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

distinguished  from  grief  for  a  catastrophe.  It  is 
a  sense  of  personal  injury,  of  unjust  humiliation, 
of  individual  wrong  received.  When  a  man  gets 
this  feeling  he  abandons  everything;  like  Esau, 
he  sells  his  birthright.  He  gives  up  the  race  of 
life — refuses  to  run  in  a  competition  where, 
according  to  him,  nobody  gets  justice.  There  have 
been  more  men  lost  to  the  world  by  a  sense  of 
personal  injury  than  by  all  the  sorrows  of  time 
which  originated  in  other  causes.  The  bereave- 
ment of  Bethany  may  in  itself  help  Martha's 
work ;  but  she  will  be  apt  to  abandon  all  work  if 
she  is  allowed  to  say,  "  Lord,  if  Thou  hadst  been 
here  my  brother  had  not  died  " — for  that  is  bitter- 
ness. It  is  this  bitterness,  this  tendency  to  self- 
pity,  that  more  than  all  other  states  of  mind  the 
Bible  is  eager  to  counteract.  That  is  why  before 
even  healing  a  calamity  it  seeks  to  sweeten  the 
mind  of  the  sufferer.  That  is  why  it  gives  the 
preliminary  address  to  the  afflicted  one,  "  Son, 
daughter,  be  of  good  cheer !  "  That  is  why  before 
the  cure  it  puts  the  question,  "  Hast  thou  faith  to 
be  healed  ?  "  That  is  why  it  sends  the  wages 
before  the  work  is  done,  and  ere  the  prodigal 
has  time  to  feel  his  humility  greets  him  with  the 
music  and  the  dance,  the  ring  and  the  robe. 

Lord,   save    me    from    self-pity — the    root    of 
i66 


THE  SWEETENING  OF  THE  MIND  IN  SORROW 

bitterness  !  There  is  only  one  way  in  which  I  can 
be  saved  from  pitying  myself — by  the  power  to 
pity  others.  I  see  the  prophet  Elijah  in  great 
spiritual  danger,  because  in  danger  of  bitterness. 
He  is  complaining  in  Thy  presence  that  he  alone 
has  served  Thee,  and  that  he  alone  has  suffered. 
And  I  hear  Thine  answer  to  his  complaining: 
**  Yet  I  have  left  me  seven  thousand  in  Israel  who 
have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal."  It  is  as  if 
Thou  hadst  said,  "  Elijah,  do  not  pity  yourself  ! 
Do  not  say  that  you  are  the  only  sufferer  in  Israel ! 
You  are  one  of  seven  thousand.  Why  in  the 
contemplation  of  your  own  case  do  you  forget  the 
seven  thousand  !  Why  do  you  feel  only  your 
personal  pain  ?  Transform  your  self-pity  into 
pity  for  the  seven  thousand  !  Lift  the  burden  of 
the  multitude !  Come  out  from  your  own  cave  ! 
Cease  to  think  only  of  yourself  and  your  individual 
sorrows !  Throw  yourself  into  the  bosom  of 
humanity  !  and  the  bitterness  will  vanish."  My 
Father,  may  I  ever  hear  that  voice  of  Thine,  for 
in  it  Thou  art  speaking  to  me !  I  am  complaining 
in  my  little  cave  of  the  thunder  and  earthquake 
and  fire.  I  am  forgetting  that  there  are  seven 
thousand  outside  to  whom  the  thunder  also  rolls, 
to  whom  the  earth  also  trembles,  to  whom  the 
fire  also  brings  pain.  Wake  me  into  their  sorrow, 
167 


MESSAGES  OF   HOPE 

O  Lord !  Show  me  not  merely  the  cup,  but  its 
passing  from  hand  to  hand!  Let  bitterness  be 
lost  in  brotherhood !  Let  frettedness  be  lost  in 
fellowship !  Let  personal  soreness  be  lost  in 
sympathy!  May  the  anger  be  sunk  in  the  anthem, 
the  complaint  drowned  in  the  concord,  the 
rebellious  spirit  stilled  in  the  symphony  of 
kindred  souls  !  Then  will  it  be  with  me  as  with 
Job — my  bitterness  will  be  healed  when  I  have 
prayed  for  my  friends. 


i68 


The  Condition   Requisite  for  Divine 
Outpouring 

"  When  the  day  of  Pentecost  was  fully  come,  they  were  all 
with  one  accord  in  one  place." — Acts  ii.  x. 

When  you  ask  the  outpouring  of  any  gift  by 
God,  there  is  one  thing  you  must  carefully  con- 
sider— whether  you  are  asking  in  harmony  with 
the  universal  need.  As  a  preliminary  to  all  prayer 
you  must  stand  "in  one  place"  with  humanity, 
must  be  of  one  heart  with  your  brother  man. 
The  gift  of  God  will  not  descend  upon  any  soul 
as  long  as  that  soul  views  itself  as  a  mere  indivi- 
dual. On  the  very  threshold  of  prayer  you  must 
be  able  to  say,  "  Our  Father,  which  art  in  heaven." 
If  you  start  with  the  invocation,  "  My  Father,'* 
you  have  no  guarantee  that  you  are  praying  in 
accord  with  your  brethren.  I  hear  men  distin- 
guish between  prayer  for  secular  things  and  prayer 
for  spiritual  things.  It  is  a  true  distinction ;  but 
it  does  not  lie  where  it  is  thought  to  lie.  Two 
men  go  up  into  the  temple  to  pray.  The  one 
says,  "  I  am  told  that  prayer  is  an  omnipotent 
i5g 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

power;  let  me  ask  something  which  will  be  an 
advantage  to  myself.  I  will  ask  God  to  make  me 
a  great  preacher  of  the  Gospel.  It  would  be  a 
grand  thing  to  have  the  crowds  flocking  after  me 
— to  be  the  admired  of  all  observers,  to  see  the 
sons  of  fortune  swayed  by  me,  the  daughters  of 
beauty  and  fashion  hanging  on  my  words ;  I  must 
beseech  my  Father  for  that  boon."  Now,  the  gift 
this  man  desires  is  a  purely  inward  one.  It  is  an 
increase  of  intellect,  emotion,  fervour,  passion, 
poetic  power.  And  yet  he  is  about  to  offer  a 
purely  secular  prayer.  He  is  not  standing  **in 
one  place  "  with  his  brother  man.  He  is  not  con- 
sidering how  his  preaching  gift  will  affect  the 
masses;  he  is  contemplating  only  how  it  will 
influence  himself.  He  has  asked  an  enrichment 
of  the  spirit ;  but  it  is  for  the  benefit  of  the  flesh. 
He  would  be  content  to  sacrifice  much  of  the 
world  to  gain  his  object;  yet  his  object  is  itself 
worldly,  individual,  personal.  The  second  man  in 
the  temple  says,  "  The  thing  I  should  like  above 
all  others  is  riches.  How  I  desire  to  be  rich ! 
What  good  I  could  do  with  money  !  How  many 
hearts  could  I  cheer,  how  many  homes  could  I 
comfort !  I  could  clothe  poverty,  I  could  soothe 
pain,  I  could  dispel  ignorance,  I  could  spread 
missions,  I  could  build  churches,  I  could  lodge 
170 


CONDITION  FOR  DIVINE  OUTPOURING 

outcasts;  give  me  wealth,  O  Lord!"  Here  is  a 
prayer  for  a  purely  outward  thing — a  thing  which 
is  commonly  viewed  as  the  world's  leading  symbol. 
Yet  the  prayer  is  intensely  spiritual,  sacred,  divine. 
The  man  has  said,  **  Our  Father."  He  is  thinking 
of  the  common  need.  He  utters  a  cry  for  his 
race.  He  asks  power,  not  to  blaze,  but  to  bless. 
He  stands  in  the  public  place  and  prays  for  Man. 
O  Thou  who  hearest  from  whatever  spot  it  may 
be  uttered  the  cry  of  Thine  own  Spirit,  in  my 
hour  of  prayer  make  Thy  Spirit  mine  !  May  it  be 
the  Spirit  of  Pentecost — the  speaking  of  a  com- 
mon tongue !  Let  me  stand  in  the  place  where 
humanity  stands;  make  my  cry  an  echo!  Let 
me  measure  my  prayer,  not  by  what  I  ask,  but  by 
whom  I  ask  it  for  I  I  would  not  be  a  privileged 
soul.  I  would  not  stand  upon  the  hill  and  bask 
amid  Thy  sunbeams  if  my  brother  were  down  in 
the  shadows.  I  think  the  light  would  blind  me  if 
it  were  seen  by  me  alone.  Could  I  walk  even 
through  this  present  world  if  I  alone  were  pos- 
sessed of  sight !  Nay,  my  Father ;  its  sun  would 
smite  me  ;  its  woods  would  wound  me ;  its  flowers 
would  fret  me;  its  trees  would  torture  me;  its 
brooks  would  bruise  me;  its  rivers  would  wring 
my  heart ;  its  oceans  would  overflow  with  my 
pity;  its  hills  would  be  heavy  with  my  grief;  its 
171 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

stars  would  be  stains  on  my  comfort ;  its  rainbow 
would  be  a  reflex  of  my  tears.  I  can  understand 
my  Lord's  cry  to  Thee,  "  Father,  I  will  that  these 
whom  Thou  hast  given  me  be  with  me  where  I 
am,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory."  I,  like 
Him,  would  have  no  exclusive  glory,  I,  like  Him, 
would  be  one  with  my  brethren.  I,  like  Him, 
would  pray,  "  Give  us  our  daily  bread."  I,  like 
Him,  would  desire  no  cup  which  I  could  not  pass 
from  hand  to  hand.  I,  like  Him,  would  empty 
myself  of  every  joy  till  the  servant's  form  had 
shared  it.  Let  this  mind  be  in  me  which  was  also 
in  Christ  Jesus ;  let  me  stand  "  in  one  place  "  with 
my  brother  man  I 


172 


The  Mark  for  Recognising  God^s  Peace 

"  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed 
on  Thee." — Is  a.  xxvi.  3. 

It  is  not  said,  "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect 
peace  whose  mind  is  stayed."  There  is  nothing  in 
mere  movelessness  which  is  suggestive  of  peace. 
A  mind  may  be  motionless  without  being  rested ; 
nay,  it  may  be  motionless  by  reason  of  its  unrest. 
What,  for  example,  is  the  numbness  of  despair  but 
just  a  mind  which  has  been  deprived  of  movement 
by  its  own  unrest.  Grief  by  its  excess  has  stopped 
the  pulses  of  feeling ;  fear  has  paralysed  energy ; 
inward  struggle  has  ended  in  inward  exhaustion. 
Or  what,  again,  is  the  calm  of  satiety  but  just  a 
deadness  produced  by  unrest.  Passion  has  been 
worn  out  by  the  strength  of  its  own  pinion ;  the 
sense  of  pleasure  has  been  blunted  by  the  excess  of 
its  own  exercise.  In  the  peace  of  a  human  soul 
everything  depends  on  the  thing  which  fastens  it. 
There  are  various  kinds  of  fastenings  by  which  a 
spirit  may  be  bound.  It  may  be  bound  by  sleep  ; 
it  may  be  bound  by  apathy ;  it  may  be  bound  by 

173 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

old  age.  The  peace  of  which  the  psalmist  speaks 
is  that  of  a  soul  bound  by  God ;  its  perfection  lies 
in  the  fact  that  it  is  stayed  on  something  which  is 
itself  constantly  moving.  What  would  be  the 
difference  between  a  soul  bound  to  a  rock  and  a 
soul  bound  to  a  star?  The  soul  fastened  to  the 
rock  would  be  stationary ;  the  soul  fastened  to  the 
star  would  be  ever  on  the  wing.  That  is  the 
difference  between  the  peace  of  God  and  the 
world's  peace.  The  world's  peace  is  a  standing 
still ;  God's  is  a  moving  on.  The  world's  peace  is 
silence ;  God's  is  a  living  voice.  The  world's 
peace  is  a  sedative;  God's  is  a  flash  of  high 
spirits.  The  world's  peace  is  languor  after  toil; 
God's  is  inspiration  of  strength  to  begin  toil.  The 
world's  peace  is  in  the  wilderness  ;  God's  is  on  the 
waves  of  life's  sea.  The  world's  peace  dulls  pain 
by  diminishing  the  power  to  feel ;  God's  dulls  pain 
by  news  of  coming  joy.  To  be  stayed  by  God  is 
to  be  stayed  not  by  death  but  by  life,  not  by 
exhaustion  but  by  energy,  not  by  folding  the 
hands  but  by  spreading  the  sails  to  reach  a  wider 
sphere.  The  peace  of  God  descends  on  every  man 
as  it  descended  on  Jesus — in  the  midst  of  the 
waters. 

Come  to  my  waters,  O  Dove  of  Inward  Rest ; 
it  is  there  I  would  be  stayed  by  Thee.    The  peace 

174 


THE  MARK  FOR  RECOGNISING  GOI^S  PEACE 

which  Thou  bringest  is  the  only  peace  for  me  just 
because  it  can  exist  upon  the  waters.     There  is  a 
peace  which  is  only  for  the  wilderness— for  the 
hour  of  solitude,  for  the  place  where  man  is  not. 
But  my  life  is  not  spent  in  the  wilderness,  is  not 
meant  to  be  spent  there.     Its  dwelHng  is  among 
rocks ;  its  home  is  the  place  of  waves.     No  peace 
can  keep  me  which  does  not  meet  me  there  and 
abide  with  me  there.      I  remember  that  Divine 
aspiration  of  my  Lord,  "  I  pray  not  that  Thou 
wouldst  take  them  out  of  the  world."     He  did  not 
want  me  to  be  removed  from  the  waters  of  con- 
flict;   He   knew  that   my  moral   Hfe  was  there. 
What  He  desired  for  me  was  something  to  comfort 
me  on  the  waters,  to  keep  me  afloat,  to  hold  me 
firm.     Therefore,  my  Father,  my  prayer  shall  be 
that  Thy  heavens  shall  be  opened  on  the  banks  of 
Jordan — that    river  where   the   multitude    meet, 
where   the   crowds   bathe.     May  Thy  holy  dove 
descend  in  the  place  of  concourse,  in  the  scene  of 
conflict !     Send  Thy  peace  where  my  heart  pul- 
sates—not  where   it   is   still!      Send   Thy   calm 
where  my  life  is  crowded— not  where   it   is  un- 
trammelled !     Send  Thy  rest  where  I  am  running 
—not  where   I   am  asleep!     Send   Thy  strength 
where  I  am  struggling— not  where  I  am  listless ! 
Send  Thy  joy  where  things  are  jarring— not  where 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

monotony  reigns  !  Send  Thy  light  to  the  heart 
that  is  laden,  Thy  song  to  the  soul  that  is  sightless, 
Thy  wing  to  the  life  that  is  weary.  Thy  rest  to  the 
bosom  that  is  ruffled,  Thy  hope  to  the  step  that 
is  heavy.  Thy  faith  to  the  mind  that  is  faint !  I 
shall  know  the  peace  to  be  from  Thee  when  it 
comes  to  me  on  the  waters. 


Z76 


The  Love  that  is  not  Irascible 

♦*  Charity  is  not  easily  provoked." — i  Cor.  xiii.  5. 

Paul  is  speaking  of  Christian  love  as  contrasted 
with  romantic  love.     The  peculiarity  of  romantic 
love  is  that  it  is  very  easily  provoked  indeed.     It 
is  the  victim  of  constant  jealousy.     It  is   really 
the  love  of  one's  self— the  love  of  being  loved; 
and  any  smile  bestowed  upon  another  arouses  its 
indignation.     But  Christian  love  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  wish  to  be  loved  again  and  therefore 
nothing  to  do  with  jealousy.     It  seeks  no  return 
for  its  own  sake — only  for  Christ's  sake.     If  there 
is   no   response   to  my  efforts   after  your   moral 
benefit,   there    is    on    my    part    regret,    but    no 
personal  enmity.     I  lament  a  failure  in  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  but  not  a  failure  in 
my  own  power  of  attraction;  Christian    love   is 
"not  easily  provoked."     Yet  I  would   not  have 
you  think  the  reason  to  be  the  proverbial  one  that 
love  is  blind.     Romantic  love  is  often  bUnd  to  the 
moral  fault  of  its   object,  Christian  love   never. 
177  M 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

The  feeling  of  which  Paul  speaks  is  one  which 
sees  faults  magnified — sees  them  not  as  they  are, 
but  as,  if  not  checked,  they  will  come  to  be. 
There  is  no  eye  so  trained  to  detect  faults  as  the 
eye  of  pure  affection.  The  stranger  may  see  only 
a  symmetrical  building ;  but  he  who  watches  for 
your  soul  will  detect  irregularities  in  the  work- 
manship and  discover  flaws  in  the  structure. 
Why,  then,  is  Christian  love  not  easily  provoked ; 
if  the  faults  are  more  patent  to  it,  why  is  not  the 
perceiving  heart  more  ruffled?  It  is  because 
Christian  love  can  do  something  which  nothing 
else  in  the  world  can  do;  it  can  repeat  the 
incarnation  of  the  Master.  Paul  says  that  Christ 
took  "  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh  " — put  Himself 
in  the  circumstances  of  those  who  have  gone 
astray.  Every  Christian  is  in  this  respect  made 
to  follow  his  Lord.  When  a  man  gets  the  love  of 
Christ  he  has  to  empty  himself  of  his  own  glory. 
He  has  to  cast  himself  down  from  the  pinnacle  of 
his  temple  into  the  roar  of  street  and  alley,  the 
struggle  for  bread,  the  conflict  for  survival,  the 
storm  and  stress  of  life.  He  has  to  cast  himself 
down  into  his  brother's  environment — to  feel  his 
weakness,  to  experience  his  helplessness,  to 
measure  the  strength  of  his  temptations.  He  has 
to  cast  himself  down  into  the  stream  of  his 
178 


THE  LOVE  THAT  IS  NOT  IRASCIBLE 

brother's  heredity — to  learn  the  power  of  long- 
seated  corruption,  to  estimate  the  force  of  an 
impure  fountain.  That  is  why  Christian  love  is 
not  easily  provoked.  Before  it  sees  the  fault  it 
feels  the  frailty;  before  it  marks  the  waste  it 
measures  the  wave;  before  it  apportions  the 
blame  it  allows  for  the  influence  of  ancestral 
blood. 

Lord,  in  the  sight  of  human  sin  I  am  often 
stirred  to  the  cry  for  vengeance.  One  of  Thy 
disciples  tells  me  that  there  were  men  in  heaven 
who  said,  "  How  long  dost  Thou  not  avenge 
Thine  own  elect !  "  and  he  adds,  "  There  were 
given  unto  them  white  robes."  When  I  am  thus 
provoked  I  too  need  Thy  white  robe — the  robe  of 
love.  I  shall  never  cease  to  be  provoked  until  I 
get  love's  power — power  to  incarnate  the  self  in 
the  lives  of  the  lower.  Give  me  that  power,  O 
God !  As  Thou  hast  sent  Thy  Son,  even  let  Him 
send  me !  Let  me  live  for  one  hour  in  the  experi- 
ence of  those  beneath  me  !  Let  me  be  clothed  in 
their  humility,  let  me  put  on  their  weakness ! 
Give  me  a  moment  in  their  manger,  a  day  in  their 
desert,  a  step  on  their  stormy  sea !  Give  me  a 
sense  of  their  faintness  as  they  rebel  against  their 
cross  on  the  Dolorous  Way  !  Give  me  a  sense  of 
their  privation  as  they  yield  to  a  voice  saying, 

179  M  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

**  Command  that  the  stones  be  made  bread !  '* 
Give  me  a  sense  that  the  flesh  is  weak  and  the 
burden  strong,  that  the  will  is  wayward  and  the 
temptation  keen,  that  the  ship  is  small  and  the 
sea  tempestuous  !  Let  me  live  in  the  heart  of  the 
humble  ;  let  me  dwell  in  the  soul  of  the  sightless ; 
let  me  walk  in  the  lair  of  the  leper ;  let  me  tread 
in  the  den  of  the  demoniac ;  let  me  consider  the 
friendlessness  of  the  fallen  before  they  fell !  Then 
shall  I  bear  on  my  breast  the  world's  sin;  then 
shall  my  spirit  be  provoked  no  more. 


i8o 


The  Directing  of  the  Early  Mind 

"They  brought  young  children  to  Him,  that  He  should  touch 
them." — Mark  x.  13. 

"That  He  should  touch  them" — not  simply 
"  that  they  should  touch  Him."  This  latter  was 
quite  unnecessary.  Touching  is  the  metaphor  for 
influence.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  the  heart  of 
Jesus  being  touched  by  the  children ;  but  it  was 
extremely  difficult  to  arrange  that  the  heart  of  the 
children  should  be  touched  by  Jesus.  It  is  easy 
for  the  developed  mind  to  understand  the  child — 
the  developed  mind  has  itself  been  a  child  and 
retains  a  memory  of  its  beginning.  But  it  is  not 
at  all  easy  for  the  child  to  understand  the 
developed  mind — that  is  a  stage  still  in  its  future. 
Yet  it  is  by  higher  models  that  the  child  must  be 
touched  if  it  is  to  have  any  mental  growth.  It  is 
not  enough  that  it  should  be  thrown  into  the 
company  of  its  equals.  Two  children  of  equal 
age  and  capacity  might  play  for  ever  in  the 
Garden  of  Eden  without  rising  a  step  higher,  if 
there  were  not  heard  betimes  a  more  mature  voice 
181 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

walking  through  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day. 
And  I  would  add  that,  the  more  mature  the  new 
voice  is,  the  better  will  it  be  for  the  child.  A 
boy's  best  chance  of  growth  is  in  associating  with 
people  already  grown.  If  you  want  to  make  him 
a  poet,  do  not  point  him  to  the  model  of  the 
village  rhymester.  Point  him  to  the  greatest.  It 
is  always  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  that  develops 
young  Adam.  Those  beings  inferior  to  himself 
would  not  do ;  those  equal  to  himself  would  not 
do ;  those  a  little  better  than  himself  would  not 
do.  If  you  want  him  to  progress,  point  him  to  a 
model  at  the  top  of  the  two  trees — the  tree  of 
knowledge  and  the  tree  of  life.  Let  him  climb 
for  the  highest  apples,  even  though  he  get  a  fall  in 
the  process.  The  highest  has  more  touch  with 
the  lowest  than  any  intermediate  has.  The 
element  of  childhood  remains  in  the  greatest. 
The  perfected  soul  gathers  up  its  past.  It  has 
many  mansions  in  its  nature  and  it  prepares  a 
place  for  all  surmounted  stages.  It  can  under- 
stand the  child  better  than  the  youth  can,  for  it 
has  a  mansion  for  childhood — which  the  youth 
has  not.  The  youth  is  ever  pressing  onward  and 
upward ;  he  fain  would  forget.  But  the  mature 
soul  goes  back.  It  lives  in  sympathy  with  the 
things  beneath  it.  There  is  no  model  so  fitted  to 
182 


THE  DIRECTING  OF  THE  EARLY  MIND 

the  heart  of  the  child  as  that  which  is  planted  at 
the  summit  of  the  hill. 

Parents  of  the  coming  generation,  bring  your 
children  to  Jesus !  I  speak  not  in  the  voice  of 
the  Churches,  I  speak  not  in  the  name  of  the 
Creeds,  I  speak  not  in  the  phrase  of  religious 
revivalism.  I  speak  in  the  interest  of  the  school- 
master, in  the  interest  of  education,  in  the  interest 
of  social  development.  The  mothers  of  Galilee 
made  a  shrewd  choice  for  their  model.  They 
came  not  with  their  children  to  Peter,  or  James, 
or  John;  they  sought  not  to  kindle  them  by 
Andrew  or  Philip  or  Nathaniel.  They  went  up 
to  the  highest — to  Jesus.  Ye  mothers  of  England, 
be  not  less  shrewd  than  they !  Would  you  kindle 
the  inspiration  of  your  children,  beware  of  the 
torch  to  which  you  bring  them.  Do  not  say, 
**  They  are  very  small  lives,  and  therefore  a  very 
little  will  do  it."  Do  not  lead  them  to  a  wax 
match  or  a  taper  or  a  candle.  Small  lives  need 
the  greatest  heat  to  fan  them  into  flame.  Seek 
for  them  nothing  less  than  the  sun — bear  them 
into  the  presence  of  Jesus.  They  will  learn  all 
things  from  Him — the  beauties  of  the  field 
and  the  pity  of  the  heart  and  the  fervour  of 
the  mind.  Caesar  will  not  teach  them  such 
courage ;    Socrates  will    not    show    them    such 

183 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

calmness ;  David  will  not  impress  them  with  such 
chivalry ;  Moses  will  not  inspire  them  with  such 
meekness ;  Elijah  will  not  imbue  them  with  such 
earnestness;  Daniel  will  not  touch  them  with 
such  manliness ;  Job  will  not  nerve  them  with 
such  patience ;  Paul  will  not  fire  them  with  such 
love.  They  will  climb  to  the  top  of  the  mansion 
quicker  than  they  will  scale  the  ladder  on  a 
neighbouring  wall ;  bring  them  first  to  the 
mountain ;  point  them  to  Jesus. 


I 

184  i 

i 


The  Distinctiveness  of  Christian  Morality 

"  He  answered  and  said  unto  Him,  Master,  all  these  have  I 
observed  from  my  youth.  Then  Jesus  said  unto  him,  One 
thing  thou  lackest  :  sell  whatsoever  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the 
poor." — Mark  x.  20,  21. 

These  are  the  words  of  that  young  man  who 
won  the  love  of  Jesus  before  he  had  embraced  the 
cause  of  Jesus.  It  is  something  to  know  that  one 
can  win  the  love  of  Christ  before  he  calls  himself 
a  Christian— that  the  Divine  eye  recognises  a 
virtue  conferred  by  nature  as  well  as  a  virtue 
derived  from  grace.  But  let  that  pass.  The 
question  the  young  man  asked  was  really  this: 
In  what  respect  does  Christianity  differ  from  the 
Ten  Commandments?  What  is  there  in  your 
doctrine  that  can  give  it  a  more  permanent  life 
than  can  be  claimed  by  these  precepts  of  Moses  ? 
He  tells  Jesus  that,  so  far  as  his  consciousness 
goes,  he  has  kept  undeviatingly  the  law  of  these 
commandments.  He  has  given  to  every  one  his 
due.    He  has  obeyed  his  parents ;  he  has  abstained 

185 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

from  all  bodily  violence ;  he  has  been  free  from 
fraud;  he  has  given  no  false  testimony;  he  has 
yielded  to  no  immoral  desires.  He  asks  what 
more  can  be  wanted  to  make  him  a  Christian. 
The  answer  of  Christ  is  striking,  "  Go,  sell  what- 
soever thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor."  If  we 
would  see  its  significance,  we  must  look  at  the 
spirit,  and  not  the  mere  form,  of  the  words.  Let 
me  try  to  paraphrase  what  our  Lord  means: 
"  You  say  you  have  given  to  every  one  his  due. 
It  is  well ;  I  admit  your  integrity  in  this  respect. 
But  is  this  the  measure  of  all  possible  integrity  ? 
Is  it  the  climax  of  goodness  when  a  man  can  say 
that  he  has  rendered  to  every  one  his  due  ?  It  is 
the  climax  of  justice ;  but  is  justice  the  highest 
step  on  the  ladder  of  goodness  ?  No ;  there  is  a 
step  beyond  justice — generosity.  It  is  not  enough 
that  you  give  to  your  brother  what  he  has  a  legal 
right  to ;  you  must  impart  to  him  that  to  which 
he  has  no  legal  right.  It  is  comparatively  easy 
to  remember  him  in  the  things  wherein  he  is  rich 
— in  the  things  which  are  his  own.  But  to 
remember  him  when  he  is  poor,  to  sympathise 
with  him  in  that  which  he  is  in  want  of — that  is 
difficult.  You  have  done  well  to  respect  his 
person,  to  keep  your  hands  from  his  property,  to 
abstain  from  calumniating  his  name.  But  after 
i86 


DISTINCTIVENESS  OF  CHRISTIAN  MORALITY 

all,  that  is  only  a  refraining  of  the  hand.  Is  there 
to  be  no  outstretching  of  the  hand !  Are  you 
content  with  doing  your  brother  no  wrong !  Is 
there  no  good  that  you  can  do  him  !  You  have 
not  killed  your  brother;  but  have  you  enlarged 
his  life!  You  have  not  stolen;  but  have  you 
added  to  his  store !  You  have  not  defamed ; 
but  have  you  spread  his  virtues  !  You  have 
brought  him  no  domestic  dispeace  ;  but  have  you 
brought  him  domestic  joy  !  You  have  refused  to 
covet  his  possessions ;  but  have  you  ever  coveted 
possessions /or  Aim  /  If  not,  there  remaineth  for 
you  a  rest  that  is  still  unachieved." 

Lord,  it  is  not  enough  for  me  that  I  have 
washed  my  robes;  I  miist  make  them  white  in 
the  Blood  of  the  Lamb — in  the  stream  of  sacrifice. 
There  are  souls  which,  touching  the  outward  law, 
are  blameless.  Their  robes  are  white ;  but  they 
are  not  sacrificial.  They  have  done  their  neigh- 
bour no  hurt;  but  they  have  borne  him  no 
blessing.  Not  such  whiteness  be  mine,  O  Lord ! 
It  "  lacks "  something.  It  means  only  the 
washing  in  innocence — in  harmlessness.  I  should 
like  to  be  washed  in  blood — in  sacrifice.  Not  by 
self-restraint  would  I  be  made  pure,  but  rather  by 
ww-restraint — not  by  the  wall,  but  by  the  wing.  I 
will  not  pray,  "  Bind  my  hands  that  I  hurt  not 
187 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

my  brother  "  ;  my  cry  will  be,  "  Loose  my  hands 
that  I  may  serve  him."  I  will  not  pray,  "  Save 
me  from  trespassing  on  my  neighbour's  ground  " ; 
my  cry  will  be,  "  Let  my  ground  be  open  to  my 
neighbour."  I  will  not  pray,  **  Keep  me  from 
envying  his  possession  of  fair  flowers  " ;  my  cry 
will  be,  "  May  the  flowers  that  are  mine  be  shared 
by  him."  I  will  not  pray,  "  Preserve  me  from  the 
passion  of  Cain  "  ;  my  cry  will  be,  "  Fill  me  with 
the  passion  of  Christ — the  passion  for  the  life  of 
the  world."  I  will  not  pray,  "  Make  me  content 
with  my  own " ;  my  cry  will  be,  "  Let  me  call 
nothing  my  own,  but  everything  a  lease  for  the 
lavishing  of  love."  I  will  not  pray,  **  Number  me 
among  the  spirits  of  just  men  "  ;  my  cry  will  be, 
"  Number  me  among  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect."  Expand  justice  into  generosity, 
and  I  shall  **  lack  "  no  more. 


x88 


The  Unexpected  Recipients  of  a  Heavenly 

Reward 

"And  not  to  me  only,  but  unto  all  them  also  that  love  His 
appearing." — 2  Tim.  iv.  8. 

This  is  to  my  mind  a  very  peculiar  passage.  It 
contains  an  idea  which  is  strikingly  original  and 
deserves  marked  attention.  Paul  has  been  saying 
that  all  through  his  Christian  life  he  has  been  a 
man  of  faith — has  kept  undimmed  his  belief  in 
the  coming  of  a  great  revelation  which  shall  make 
all  things  clear,  and,  as  the  result  of  his  faith,  he 
expects  that  in  the  future  God  will  place  a  crown 
on  his  head.  But  suddenly  he  goes  on  to  say  that 
this  crown  will  not  be  confined  to  the  man  of 
unclouded  faith ;  it  will  be  shared  also  by  the  man 
of  unclouded  love.  What  he  says  I  take  to  be 
this,  "  God  has  laid  up  a  crown  of  righteousness 
to  recompense  my  faith  in  His  appearing ;  but  He 
has  also  a  crown  for  those  who  have  only  loved  His 
appearing — who  have  never  been  able  to  make  it 
a  matter  of  steadfast  faith ;  there  are  men  who 
189 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

shall  receive  a  crown  for  the  mere  wish  of  their 
hearts  that  Christ's  kingdom  may  come."  Consider 
this  utterance  of  Paul.  There  are  three  ways  in 
which  I  may  be  affected  towards  the  appearing  of 
Christ — faith,  hope,  or  love.  I  may  have  a  clear 
vision  of  His  approach — I  may  see  in  anticipation 
the  King  in  His  beauty ;  this  is  faith.  I  may  have 
a  dim  vision  of  His  approach — I  may  behold  but 
momentary  glimpses  in  a  cloudy  sky ;  this  is  hope. 
I  may  have  no  vision  at  all  of  His  approach — 
hope  itself  may  have  died  within  me ;  yet,  in  the 
place  where  faith  and  hope  should  dwell,  there 
may  be  a  great  longing  for  His  light ;  this  is  love 
— the  love  of  His  appearing.  Paul  says  that  even 
this  absence  of  dogmatic  assurance  will  receive  its 
crown  of  glory.  It  has  seen  no  star  in  the  east, 
it  has  heard  no  bells  across  the  snow ;  yet  it  has 
mirrored  Christ  in  its  dreams,  and  its  heart  has 
vibrated  in  the  night.  There  are  men  who  have 
washed  their  robes  in  mere  love.  Their  faith  is 
clouded,  their  hope  is  dim  ;  the  Christ  is  shadowed 
to  the  eye.  But  to  the  heart  He  is  not  shadowed ; 
love  reigns.  And  love  purifies.  It  holds  the 
Christ  before  the  soul  even  where  He  is  absent 
from  the  sight ;  the  vision  of  His  Cross  in  the  soul 
becomes  in  the  life  the  vindication  of  His  crown. 
My  Father,  who  are  these  that  are  arrayed  in 
190 


RECIPIENTS  OF  A  HEAVENLY  REWARD 

white  robes  and  whence  came  they  ?  I  can  under* 
stand  why  others  should  be  clothed  in  white.  I 
can  understand  why  the  pure  garment  should  be 
worn  by  the  convinced — by  those  who  hear  the 
approach  of  Thy  chariot  wheels.  I  can  under- 
stand why  the  white  robe  should  cover  the 
sanguine — those  who  listen  for  the  chariot  which 
as  yet  they  do  not  hear.  But  why  should  there 
be  a  garment  for  those  who  are  not  even  listening 
for  Thy  chariot — who  have  not  faith  enough  or 
hope  enough  to  strain  the  ear!  Thou  hast 
revealed  the  mystery,  O  Lord.  It  is  because 
there  is  another  vision  of  Thee  than  either  faith 
or  hope ;  it  is  love.  It  is  because  when  I  cannot 
see  Thine  appearing  or  expect  Thine  appearing  I 
can  love  Thine  appearing.  I  thank  Thee  that 
Thou  hast  white  robes  for  love — a  crown  of 
righteousness  laid  up  for  those  who  have  only 
seen  Thee  by  the  heart.  I  thank  Thee  that  in 
Thy  precious  sacrifice  a  man  can  wash  his  robes 
by  night — the  night  of  intellectual  obscurity.  I 
thank  Thee  that,  when  the  cloud  has  received  Thy 
Christ  out  of  my  sight,  and  when  He  can  no 
longer  rule  my  reason.  He  can  still  lodge  in  my 
love  and  beautify  my  life.  Let  this  be  my  comfort, 
Lord,  when  the  sun  is  low !  In  the  hour  when 
faith  is  feeble  and  the  wing  of  hope  is  heavy,  tell  me 
191 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

that  love  can  crown  me,  that  the  song  of  the  heart 
can  atone  !  Tell  me  that  the  roll  of  Thy  disciples 
is  larger  than  the  communion  roll,  that  the  names 
written  in  heaven  exceed  the  names  signed  on 
earth  !  Tell  me  that,  when  the  sons  of  faith  have 
been  rewarded  and  the  sons  of  hope  have  been 
recompensed,  there  will  remain  to  be  distributed  a 
third  series  of  prizes — the  crowns  of  those  who 
have  loved  Thine  appearing  I 


192 


The  Divine  Optimism 

"  Mercy  rejoiceth  against  judgment."— James  ii.  13. 

There  are,  I  think,  three  states  of  the  human 
heart  — love,  hatred,  and  lovelessness.  Love  is 
attraction ;  hatred  is  repulsion  ;  lovelessness  is 
equilibrium  or  indifference.  Love  is  hot ;  hatred 
is  cold  ;  lovelessness  is  lukewarm.  Love  is  the 
sense  of  day;  hatred  is  the  feeling  of  night; 
lovelessness  is  congenital  blindness— the  absence 
of  any  feeling  either  of  day  or  night.  Each  of 
these  states  has  a  separate  tendency.  Loveless- 
ness is  indifference  to  a  man's  good  or  evil ;  it 
neither  rejoices  in  judgment  nor  in  mercy.  Hatred 
seeks  out  the  bad  quality  in  a  man  ;  it  rejoices  in 
judgment  but  not  in  mercy.  Love  seeks  the  good 
quality  in  a  man ;  it  rejoices  in  mercy  but  not  in 
■judgment.  Now,  St.  James  says  that  this  last  is 
the  Divine  ideal— the  condition  of  the  heart  of 
God.  The  paradox  of  the  statement  lies  in  the 
thought  that  the  being  who  has  the  keenest 
perception  of  sin  should  least  have  the  wish  to 
judge  it.  Yet  there  is  nothing  strange  in  this. 
The  master  in  photography  is  more  alive  to  a 
193  N 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

disagreeable  expression  of  countenance  than  the 
tyro  is.  Yet  on  that  very  account  he  is  far  less 
apt  than  the  tyro  to  photograph  the  sitter  at  this 
particular  point.  His  very  sense  of  shrinking  from 
anything  not  beautiful  will  make  him  refuse  to 
take  the  impression  at  this  stage.  The  greater  the 
artist  be,  the  less  we  have  to  fear  being  represented 
in  our  worst  light ;  it  is  the  poor  artist  that  makes 
us  tremble.  You  and  I  are  sitting  to-day  to  the 
Divine  Artist.  He  sees  every  flaw  in  our  face  and 
figure  as  no  brother  man  can  see  them,  and  they 
impress  Him  more  repulsively  than  they  will  affect 
any  brother  man.  But  just  because  of  that,  we 
are  safer  in  His  hands.  He  sees  the  flaw  and 
judges  it,  but  He  will  not  let  this  be  His  final 
judgment.  His  mercy  rejoices  over  His  judgment. 
He  says :  "  I  will  not  close  the  sitting  at  this  point. 
I  will  wait  for  another  expression,  a  better  ex- 
pression, an  expression  which  shall  more  satisfy 
my  sense  of  beauty."  That  is  my  safety  in  the 
presence  of  the  Divine  Painter — His  horror  of  the 
flaw.  The  human  painter  may  close  his  sitting  at 
the  moment  of  the  blemish,  because  he  feels  less 
the  majesty  efface  and  form  ;  but  the  Divine  Artist 
calls  for  an  arrest  of  judgment,  and  suspends  the 
process  in  the  hope  of  better  things. 

O  Thou  in  whose  searching  light  I  sit  for  my 
194 


THE  DIVINE  OPTIMISM 

portrayal,  how  shall  I  appear  1  In  that  searching 
light,  where  shall  I  find  comfort !  In  the  very  fact 
of  its  searchingness,  O  my  God.  My  brother's 
light  may  fail  to  detect  a  small  stain,  but  it  will 
also  fail  to  detect  a  small  virtue.  Thou,  O  Father, 
shalt  see  my  sin  in  the  bud,  but  Thou  shalt  also 
see  my  grace  in  the  germ.  I  would  not  fly  from 
Thy  microscope  even  if  I  could.  No  glass  but 
Thine  can  count  my  grains  of  gold.  Thou  seest 
my  flower  when  it  is  yet  but  a  faith.  Thou  hearest 
my  prayer  when  it  is  yet  but  a  plaint.  Thou 
acceptest  my  sacrifice  when  it  is  yet  but  a  sympathy. 
Thou  readest  my  confession  when  it  is  yet  but  a 
cry.  Thou  receivest  my  worship  when  it  is  yet 
but  a  wish.  Thou  discernest  a  torrent  of  grief  in 
my  one  tear,  a  storm  of  penitence  in  my  single 
sigh,  a  river  of  life  in  my  mere  unrest.  The  virgin 
mother  cried,  **He  that  is  mighty  hath  magnified 
me."  I  too  am  magnified  in  Thy  glass,  O  Lord. 
My  box  of  ointment  becomes  Christ's  burial 
wreath.  My  cup  of  water  given  to  a  man  is 
seen  as  a  gift  to  Thee.  While  my  life  is  still  in 
swaddling  bands  Thou  singest  over  me  the  songs 
of  Bethlehem ;  while  my  heart  is  still  in  a  manger 
Thou  layest  at  my  feet  the  treasures  of  a  king. 
Thy  mercy  rejoices  over  judgment ;  Thou  art  more 
glad  of  the  gold  than  of  the  grey. 

195  N  2 


The  Comfort  of  God^s  Omnipresence 

"  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell  in  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  sea :  even  there  Thy  right  hand  shall  hold 
me." — Psalm  cxxxix.  9,  10. 

The  greatest  comfort  to  all  hours  of  separation 
is  the  idea  of  God.  When  you  are  to  be  divided 
from  a  friend  by  an  earthly  sea  there  can  be  no 
deeper  solace  than  the  thought  that  you  and  he 
are  to  be  really  within  the  hollow  of  a  single  hand 
— that,  while  unable  to  touch  one  another,  you  will 
be  in  the  presence  of  one  who  is  touching  you  both* 
And  when  there  comes  the  separation  of  that 
widest  sea  —  death,  there  is  again  no  solace  so 
deep  as  that.  At  such  a  time  what  do  I  want  to 
know?  Is  it  whether  the  streets  of  heaven  are 
paved  with  gold  ?  Is  it  whether  the  songs  of 
heaven  are  rich  in  music  ?  Is  it  whether  the  work 
of  heaven  is  wrought  by  angels  ?  It  is  none  of 
these  things.  It  is  whether  in  this  vast  universe 
beyond  the  earth  there  is  anything  which  can 
connect  my  life  with  the  life  of  my  departed 
brother.  What  a  comfort  to  be  told  that,  with  all 
196 


THE  COMFORT  OF  GOD'S  OMNIPRESENCE 

our  seeming  separation,  we  are  still  inmates  of  the 
same  house — the  house  of  God  !  That  is  just  what 
the  psalmist  says.  He  says  that  absolute  separa- 
tion between  two  souls  is  an  impossibility — that 
the  wings  of  the  morning  can  never  lift  us  outside 
the  gates  of  God.  If  you  had  departed  into  the 
far-off  land  and  I,  lingering  here,  had  a  message  to 
send  you,  I  should  not,  like  Adelaide  Proctor,  make 
music  the  medium  of  transmission.  That  would 
be  wireless  telegraphy ;  the  song  might  reach  the 
wrong  quarter.  But  if  I  knew  there  was  an 
invisible  being  in  the  universe  who,  spite  of  the 
poles  of  distance,  had  one  hand  on  me  and  the 
other  on  you,  I  should  find  my  medium  of  com- 
munication in  him.  I  should  say,  '*  Convey  into 
the  heart  of  my  friend  the  impression  that  he  is 
still  remembered  by  me,  still  loved  by  me,  still 
longed  for  by  me."  If  a  man  feels  himself  in 
contact  with  God,  he  is  in  contact  with  all  worlds. 
I  once  heard  an  old  woman  express  great  confidence 
that  she  would  meet  her  departed  husband  beyond 
the  grave.  Experimenting  on  her  understanding, 
I  said,  "  Of  course,  in  that  vast  district  it  may  take 
some  time  to  find  him."  She  answered,  "  It  will 
need  no  time ;  I  shall  just  ask  Christ  to  take  me  to 
my  husband,  and  He  will  take  me  at  once."  With 
all  its  crudeness  and  primitiveness,  the  answer  was 
197 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

on  the  lines  of  Herbert  Spencer.  If  all  the  forces 
of  the  universe  are  the  parts  of  one  central  Force, 
that  central  Force  can  at  any  moment  unite  them 
all ;  the  wings  of  the  morning  can  do  nothing  to 
divide. 

O  Thou  that  bridgest  every  sea  which  separates 
soul  from  soul,  my  bereaved  love  looks  to  Thee, 
Unto  whom  can  it  go  but  unto  Thee !  What 
other  presence  connects  me  with  my  departed! 
Shall  I  give  my  message  to  the  winds  ! — they  may 
leave  it  with  the  barren  rocks.  Shall  I  entrust  it 
to  the  sea  ! — the  sea  reaches  not  beyond  the  earth. 
Shall  I  commit  it  to  a  song ! — the  songs  of  heaven 
may  render  mine  mute.  But  I  can  give  it  to  Thee, 
Thou  art  the  only  presence  that  annihilates  dis- 
tance—  that  pursues  the  wings  of  the  morning. 
Sometimes  when  I  meet  one  deemed  far  away,  I 
say,  "The  world  is  small."  Thou  makest  all 
worlds  small,  O  my  Father — small  as  the  hollow 
of  Thy  hand.  Death  itself  cannot  separate  what 
is  in  the  hollow  of  Thy  hand.  Do  I  not  cry  to 
Thee  on  earth  to  hear  my  aspirations ;  if  Thou 
canst  hear  them  Thou  canst  transmit  them.  Thou 
touchest  me  here^  and  my  brother  yonder ;  Thou 
art  the  medium  from  my  soul  to  his.  I  commit 
my  message  to  Thee ;  I  launch  it  on  the  bosom  of 
Thy  love.  Carry  it  in  Thine  own  way ;  if  Thou 
198 


THE  COMFORT  OF  GOiyS  OMNIPRESENCE 

boldest  worlds  in  the  hollow  of  Thy  hand,  it  has 
not  far  to  go.  Bear  it  on  the  wings  of  thought ! 
Breathe  it  into  the  breast  of  my  brother  !  Kindle 
it  by  connection ;  inspire  it  by  instinct ;  suggest  it 
by  sympathy;  waft  it  by  inward  whisperings; 
proclaim  it  by  presentiment ;  speak  it  by  strength 
instilled ;  convey  it  through  experience  of  comfort ! 
I  shall  have  great  confidence  if  I  send  my  letter  by 
Thee. 


199 


The  Nature  of  Divine  Revelation 

"  By  manifestation  of  the  truth  commending  ourselves  to 
every  man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God." — 2  Cor.  iv.  2. 

The  thought  clearly  is  that  a  revelation  ought 
not  to  be  purely  original.  **  Commending  ourselves 
to  every  man's  conscience  "  means  "  commending 
ourselves  to  every  man's  consciousness."  What  Paul 
wishes  to  say  is  that  Divine  truth,  like  every  other 
truth,  must  speak  to  experience,  appeal  to  some- 
thing already  knovv^n.  It  is  a  point  worthy  of 
all  observation.  The  common  view  is  that  a 
Divine  revelation  must  be  something  wholly  new, 
that  if  God  ever  speaks  to  man  it  will  be  to  tell 
him  what  he  never  heard  before.  Would  that  be 
your  idea  of  the  greatness  of  a  human  revelation  ? 
You  sometimes  say  of  a  sermon,  "  It  was  very 
fresh ;  it  came  to  me  like  a  revelation."  But  what 
do  you  mean  by  that  ?  That  it  was  a  novelty  ? 
Exactly  the  reverse — that  it  was  an  unexpected 
recognition.  A  fresh  thought  is  a  thought  which 
is  suddenly  discovered  by  the  drawing  aside  of  a 
veil.  It  has  been  lying  there  all  the  time,  but  the 
veil  covered  it.      Your  finding  is,   in  the  literal 

200 


THE  NATURE  OF  DIVINE  REVELATION 

sense    of  the   word,   a  discovery— ?i   removal    of 
something  which  has  been  lying    on   the   top  of 
the  thought  and  has  prevented  you  from  seeing 
it.    When  you  do  see  it,  you  recognise  it  as  a  part 
of  your    own  property,  a  thing  which   naturally 
belongs  to  you  and  which  you  should  never  have 
been  without.     It  comes  to  you  not  as  a  strange 
but  as  a  familiar  object ;  the  freshness  consists  in 
the  fact  that  it  was  there  while  you  did  not  know 
it.     Now,  Paul  says  that  it  is  the  same  with  the 
truth  of  God.     It  is  a  Divine  manifestation,  but 
it  commends  itself  to  the  consciousness— appeals 
to    the  experience.      Does    not    the    very   word 
"  revelation  "  mean   the  drawing  aside  of  a  veil. 
It  is  not  the  creation  of  something  new,  but  the 
uncovering  of  something  old  —  something  which 
has  been  wrapped  in  a  napkin  for  years,  which  has 
been  lying  close  to  our  hand  through  the  whole 
course  of  our  lives,  and  which  never  for  a  moment 
did  we  beHeve  to  be  there.      What  God's  light 
reveals  is  myself.     There  was  a  mirror  in  my  room 
all  through  the  night,  and  I  knew  it  not ;  I  thought 
the  spot  where  it  stood  blank  space.    But  the  sun 
rose  and  taught  me  my  own  splendour,  and  the 
glory  without  was  caught  by  the  glass  within,  and 
the  morning  ray  became  the  reflection  of  my  heart, 
and  in  the  light  of  God  I  beheld  my  Hfe  as  man. 

201 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Lord,  let  me  not  forget  that  Thou  hast  a  separate 
voice  for  separate  souls — a  voice  for  the  "  conscious- 
ness of  every  man  "  !  Let  me  not  forget  that 
though  Thy  light  speaks  to  all  it  has  not  the 
same  ray  for  each !  I  have  no  right  to  ask  that 
my  brother's  mirror  shall  reflect  the  same  things 
as  mine.  Thou  shinest  into  separate  rooms — into 
the  consciousness  of  each  man,  and  the  rooms  are 
all  differently  furnished.  Shall  I  insist  that  my 
brother's  room  be  mirrored  as  my  own  !  Elijah 
has  his  table  spread  in  the  vi^ilderness ;  what  he 
needs  from  Thee  is  a  human  voice  ;  therefore  Thou 
sendest  him  a  friend.  Peter  gets  food  in  his  dreams 
— by  the  sheet  let  down  from  heaven ;  what  he 
needs  from  Thee  is  a  waking  to  reality ;  therefore 
Thou  sendest  him  a  rough  sea.  John  lives  in  the 
fire  of  expectancy — in  the  hope  of  an  immediate 
seat  at  Thy  right  hand ;  what  he  needs  from  Thee 
is  the  calmness  to  wait ;  therefore  Thou  sendest 
him  a  long  journey.  Paul  has  had  too  much  light 
— is  apt  to  underrate  a  brother's  difficulty ;  what 
he  needs  from  Thee  is  a  sense  of  human  weakness; 
therefore  Thou  sendest  him  a  thorn.  Matthew 
has  had  too  many  thorns  —  has  met  everywhere 
obloquy,  contempt,  scorn;  what  he  needs  from 
Thee  is  a  flower ;  therefore  Thou  sendest  him  the 
revelation  of  Thy  presence  in  a  feast.    I  thank 

202 


THE  NATURE  OF  DIVINE  REVELATION 

Thee  not  only  that  Thou  knockest  at  every  door, 
but  that  Thine  is  a  varied  knocking  ;  Thou  callest 
Martha  into  the  silence,  Thou  meetest  Mary  at  the 
social  board.  Thou  suppliest  my  life,  not  where 
it  is  strong,  but  where  it  is  weak ;  Thou  reachest 
my  consciousness  where  I  am  conscious  of  want. 


203 


The  Irrepressible  Evidence  of  a  Divine 
Origin 

"  Though  I  bear  record  of  myself,  yet  my  record  is  true :  for 
I  know  whence  I  came,  and  whither  I  go." — John  viii.  14. 

I  UNDERSTAND  our  Lord  to  mean  that  one  who 
has  in  him  the  blood  of  a  lofty  lineage  cannot  help 
revealing  himself.  The  presence  of  Jesus  even 
where  it  was  silent  exercised  a  commanding  power. 
His  enemies  said,  "  How  is  this  air  of  dignity  com- 
patible with  your  profession  of  the  absence  of 
self-consciousness,  *Thou  bearest  record  of  thy- 
self; thy  witness  of  a  voluntary  humility  cannot 
be  true.'  "  Jesus  answers ;  "  It  is  just  because  I 
am  utterly  unconscious  of  Myself  that  My  lineage 
shines  through  Me.  If  I  were  on  guard,  if  I  were 
studying  to  conceal,  I  might  keep  it  from  appearing. 
But  because  there  is  no  thought  of  self,  because 
My  heart  is  moving  naturally  and  spontaneously, 
the  secret  of  My  birth  comes  out  and  My  origin  is 
revealed."  Now,  even  in  natural  life  this  is  a 
principle  which  can  easily  be  verified.  Every 
man  of  high  breeding,  in  his  unconscious  moments, 
204 


IRREPRESSIBLE  EVIDENCE  OF  A  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

bears  record  of  himself.  I  should  say  he  never 
does  so  with  such  strength  as  in  his  unconscious 
moments.  When  he  is  oif  guard,  when  he  is 
bent  on  some  intense  aim,  when  his  thoughts  are 
far  away  from  the  mode  of  his  own  action,  that 
mode  will  reveal  itself  as  an  attitude  of  grace. 
He  may  be  lifting  a  chair  for  your  benefit  and  for 
your  benefit  alone ;  yet,  in  the  act  of  impersonal 
kindness  the  personal  dignity  may  appear.  When 
a  man  is  born  of  Christ's  Spirit  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  him  to  conceal  his  origin.  It  will 
shine  out  everywhere,  but  never  so  much  as  when 
he  is  engaged  in  matters  seemingly  foreign  to 
himself.  It  will  not  be  only  in  reading  the 
Bible  or  in  uttering  a  prayer  that  the  secret  of 
his  birth  will  be  manifest.  It  will  be  an  irre- 
pressible secret.  It  will  shine  in  things  called 
secular,  in  scenes  called  worldly.  Men  will  give 
it  worldly  names.  They  will  say,  "  What  a  fine 
manner  he  has  !  " — *'  What  perfect  culture  he 
has  1  " — they  will  attribute  to  the  gardener  the 
resurrection  which  comes  from  the  Lord.  The 
secret  of  your  Christian  birth  will  come  out  in 
your  countenance,  in  your  gait,  in  your  gesture, 
in  your  music,  in  your  business,  in  your  converse, 
in  your  very  mode  of  conducting  an  argument. 
Christ  cannot  be  buried — not  even  in  a  human 
205 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

heart;  on  the  third  day  He  will  rise  again  and 
reveal  Himself  in  outward  things — on  the  dusty 
road  to  Emmaus  and  on  the  bosom  of  life's  fretting 
sea. 

Lord,  let  me  breathe  Thine  upper  air — the  air 
of  Thy  Spirit !  If  once  I  breathe  it  I  shall  no  more 
go  out.  I  do  not  say  I  shall  no  more  come  down. 
I  want  to  come  down.  I  do  not  wish  to  linger  in 
the  tabernacle  of  the  mount  when  a  sufferer  is 
waiting  on  the  plain  ;  I  am  glad  that  the  cloud 
should  cover  the  tabernacles,  and  send  me  down. 
But  I  would  carry  down  along  with  me  the 
mountain  air  ;  I  would  carry  down  along  with  me 
the  mountain  radiance.  Moses  carried  Thy  light 
to  the  foot  of  the  hill ;  so  would  I.  I  would  not 
study  how  to  make  it  shine,  any  more  than  Moses 
did;  I  would  put  on,  like  him,  a  veil  of  self- 
forgetfulness.  But  I  know  that  the  veil  will  not 
hide  it ;  in  spite  of  myself  I  shall  bear  record 
**  whence  I  came  and  whither  I  go."  Let  me  not 
be  anxious  about  seeking  religious  spheres  ;  may  I 
touch  all  spheres  and  make  them  rosy  with  Thy 
light !  May  I  be  religious  without  knowing  it 
— always,  everywhere !  May  I  leave  Thy  sun- 
beams where  I  dream  not !  May  I  plant  Thy 
flowers  where  I  deem  not !  May  I  send  Thy 
message  where  I  seem  not !  May  I  tell  of  Christ 
306 


IRREPRESSIBLE  EVIDENCE  OF  A  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

unconsciously  when  I  mean  to  speak  of  common 
things!  May  I  describe  heaven  unwittingly  when  I 
discourse  only  of  mart  and  lane  !  May  my  presence 
breathe  Thy  peace,  my  happiness  Thy  hope,  my 
fervour  Thy  faith,  my  cheerfulness  Thy  charity, 
my  pity  Thy  pardon,  my  munificence  Thy  mercy, 
my  generosity  Thy  gentleness,  my  tenderness  the 
travail  of  Thy  soul !  In  the  streets  of  busy  life,  in 
the  scenes  of  garish  day,  let  me  bear  unconscious 
record  of  the  height  from  which  I  came  I 


207 


Compensation 

"Dost    thou    know    the    balancings    of    the    clouds!"— 
Job  XXXVII.  i6. 

These  words  were  spoken  by  Elihu — one  of  the 
five  actors  in  the  drama  of  the  Book  of  Job. 
Before  he  gave  his  opinion,  two  other  opinions  had 
been  advanced  as  to  the  government  of  God.  The 
first  was  that  of  Job's  three  critics — Eliphaz, 
Bildad  and  Zophar.  They  represented  God  as 
very  stern  to  the  sinner.  The  second  was  that  of 
Job.  He  said  that  the  clouds  of  Hfe  were  so 
unequally  distributed  as  to  lead  to  the  conclusion 
that  joy  and  pain  were  irrespective  of  goodness  or 
badness.  He  thought  that  the  clouds  fell  indis- 
criminately on  the  evil  and  the  righteous.  But 
Elihu  steps  forward  with  a  third  theory.  He 
turns  to  Job  and  says :  "  Admitting  that  the  clouds 
fall  equally  on  the  evil  and  the  righteous,  how  does 
that  prove  that  the  righteous  suffer  as  much  as  the 
evil  I  Do  you  know  the  balancing  of  these  clouds ! 
208 


COMPENSATION 

Do  you  imagine  that  the  same  calamity  falling  on 
two  men  at  the  same  time  must  mean  the  same 
amount  of  suffering!  Do  you  not  take  into 
account  the  previous  condition  of  the  soul  which 
meets  it !  Are  you  not  aware  that  every  calamity 
may  be  either  aggravated  or  counterbalanced  from 
within !  Until  you  have  learned  this,  you  are  in 
no  condition  to  measure  the  justice  of  God."  And. 
of  the  three  doctrines  I  agree  with  that  of  Elihu.. 
Before  I  can  judge  of  any  calamity  I  must  know; 
whether  there  is  anything  to  counterbalance  it,  to 
compensate  it,  to  weigh  against  it.  I  have  seen 
children  playing  in  squalid  lane  and  wretched 
alley,  oblivious  of  the  mean  environment;  they 
were  blinded  to  the  pain  by  their  own  buoyancy. 
I  have  seen  the  soldier  unconscious  of  weary 
marches ;  he  forgot  fatigue  in  the  ardour  of  his 
cause.  I  have  seen  the  student  pass  hours  without 
food  and  nights  without  repose ;  the  inward  fire 
burned  up  hunger  and  consumed  the  need  of 
sleep.  I  have  heard  the  martyr  in  the  agonies  of 
death  cry  to  his  fellow-sufferers,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer ;  we  shall  kindle  a  torch  that  will  never  be 
extinguished !  "  In  all  these  cases  there  was  a 
counterbalancing  of  the  cloud.  Without  the 
inward  counterpoise  the  poverty  would  have 
repelled,  the  march  exhausted,  the  abstinence 
209  o 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

killed,  the  martyrdom  unmanned.     But  the  cloud 
was  balanced  by  a  ray  of  glory. 

Lord,  balance  my  clouds ;  let  them  not  be 
allowed  to  outweigh  my  joys  !  I  dare  not  ask  an 
exemption  from  the  cloud,  for  Thou  makest  the 
clouds  Thy  chariots.  But  I  do  ask  its  balancing 
— the  counteraction  by  an  inward  joy.  Give  wings 
to  my  heart,  that  at  the  time  of  the  cloud  it  may 
fly  to  a  flower  !  Thou  hast  never  left  my  garden 
without  a  flower.  Never  have  I  seen  an  absolute 
winter  in  the  heart  of  man  ;  there  is  always  a  rest 
that  "  remaineth."  In  the  hour  of  the  cloud,  let 
not  mine  eye  linger  on  it !  Turn  my  gaze  to  the 
joys  that  are  still  unfading!  Let  the  rain  from 
the  cloud  water  these  joys  and  make  them  more 
precious !  Let  me  know  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  "  When  ye  are  persecuted  in  one  city,  flee 
into  another!"  I  thank  Thee  that  there  is  no 
life  in  which  all  cities  are  persecuted — that  there 
is  ever  a  place  of  refuge  to  which  the  spirit  can 
flee.  Let  not  the  cloud  overbalance  me  !  Lead 
me  to  the  joy  that  remaineth  !  Reveal  to  me  the 
still  unrufiled  rose  !  When  Thou  puttest  out  the 
stars,  let  me  hear  the  nightly  song !  When  Thou 
bringest  the  flood,  let  me  see  the  bow !  When 
Thou  wakest  the  storm,  walk  Thyself  upon  the 
waters !      When   Thou   sendest   the   cross,  bring 

210 


COMPENSATION  \ 

beforehand  Thy  peace !     When  Thou  takest  away 

Rachael,  raise  up  Joseph  !     When  Judas  proves  a  j 

failure  and  lessens  the  number  of  the  twelve,  point  < 

me  to  the  coming  Paul !     Help  me  to  discern  the  ! 
silver  lining  in  the  cloud! 


211  O  2  ] 


The  Cosmopolitanism  of  the  Lord's  Prayer 

Matt.  vi.  9 — 13. 

Has  it  ever  struck  you  how  representative  this 
prayer  is  in  respect  to  human  want.  To  my  mind 
its  very  originality  lies  in  its  power  to  include  the 
old  desires  of  the  heart.  These  six  petitions  are 
each  the  voice  of  an  ancient  philosophy  or  faith ; 
Christ  has  simply  gathered  them  in.  He  has 
counted  the  scattered  cries  and  made  them  one 
choir.  The  Jew  cried,  "  Hallowed  be  Thy  Name  "  ; 
he  wanted  a  God  whom  men  could  reverence  for 
His  holiness — who  charged  His  very  angels  with 
folly,  who  could  not  look  upon  sin  but  with 
abhorrence.  Two  empires  have  cried,  "  Thy  king- 
dom come  " — the  Chinese  and  the  Roman  ;  they 
have  seen  heaven  incarnated  on  a  visible  throne. 
The  Brahman  has  cried,  "  Thy  will  be  done  "  ;  he 
counts  his  own  will  delusion ;  he  wants  to  lose 
himself  in  the  Absolute  Life.  The  polytheist  of 
every  clime  cries,  ''  Give  us  this  day  our  daily 
bread  "  ;  his  whole  use  of  religion  is  for  the  needs 
212 


COSMOPOLITANISM  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER 

of  the  hour.  The  Buddhist  cries,  "  Forgive  us  our 
debts";  he  trembles  lest  the  consequence  of  sin 
may  be  to  bring  us  back  after  death  to  lower  forms 
of  being.  And  the  Stoic  cries,  "  Lead  us  not  into 
temptation  " ;  his  whole  desire  is  to  be  free  from 
the  vain  seductions  of  life — to  ignore  its  jealousies, 
to  scorn  its  passions,  to  laugh  at  its  ambitions,  to 
regard  its  gains  and  its  losses  with  equal  contempt. 
These  are  the  cries  of  the  old  world ;  and  Christ 
has  said,  **  Come  unto  Me  and  I  will  give  you 
rest ! "  He  has  not  sent  one  of  them  empty 
away.  He  has  gathered  them  together  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings ;  and  there 
will  not  be  one  want  neglected  in  His  shower  of 
blessings. 

O  ye  who  proclaim  the  Gospel  to  foreign 
lands,  tell  them  not  that  they  are  foreign  to 
Christ !  Tell  them  that  within  His  Pantheon 
there  is  a  place  for  all  the  cries  of  the  world  !  Tell 
them  that  within  the  many  mansions  of  His  heart 
there  is  a  room  prepared  for  the  desire  of  every 
Hving  soul !  Bid  them  all  come  in,  carrying  their 
separate  burdens  !  Bid  the  secularist  bring  his  cry 
for  daily  bread  ! — it  will  be  answered  here.  Bid 
the  Brahman  bring  his  cry  for  vanquished  will ! — it 
will  be  answered  here.  Bid  the  Stoic  bring  his 
cry  for  conquered  passions ! — it  will  be  answered 

213 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

here.  Bid  the  Roman  bring  his  cry  for  a  Divine 
kingdom ! — it  will  be  answered  here.  Bid  them 
learn  that  in  Christ  they  will  get  more  than  they 
cry  for !  Tell  the  Jew  he  will  see  God's  holiness, 
but  that  the  sight  will  be  softened  by  debts  for- 
given !  Tell  the  Brahman  he  will  yield  up  his  will 
but  that  the  sacrifice  will  be  mitigated  by  the 
assurance  of  daily  bread  !  Tell  the  Roman  he  will 
see  the  King  in  His  power,  but  that  this  power 
will  be  exerted  in  holding  him  back  from  tempta- 
tion !  Tell  all  of  them  that  each  of  their  cries 
will  be  better  answered  because  each  will  receive 
also  an  answer  to  his  brother's  cry  !  So  shall  the 
hearts  of  all  be  knit  in  unity,  so  shall  the  last 
result  be  not  selfishness  but  sympathy;  and  the 
prayer  which  each  will  utter  shall  eventually  be 
the  prayer  for  all — "  Our  Father." 


814 


Christ's  Disparagement  of  Apparitions 

"  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they 
be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead."— Luke  xvi.  31. 

I  HAVE  heard  a  hundred  sermons  preached  on 
this  text ;  and  the  result  of  them  all  was  unsatis- 
factory.    Not  one  of  them  succeeded  in  rendering 
even  plausible  the  statement  that  a  rising  from 
the  dead  would  not  persuade  an  unbeliever.     But 
did  Christ  ever  say  that  a  rising  from  the  dead 
would  not  persuade  an  unbeliever  ?     Never.     The 
sin  of  Dives  and  his  five  brothers  was  not  unbelief; 
it  was  want  of  charity.     That  of  Dives  certainly 
was.     He  allowed  a  beggar  to  lie  at  his  gates,  to 
feed  on  the  mere  crumbs  that  accident  sent  from 
his  table,  to  have  his  sores  ministered  to  by  the 
very  dogs  of  the  street.     The  family  sin  seems  to 
have  been  avarice— the  inability  to  give.     Now, 
no  avaricious  man  could  be  made  less  avaricious 
by   an   appearing   of  the   dead.      An   unbeliever 
would  lose  his  unbelief;  an  atheist  would  drop 
his  atheism;  a  worshipper  of   matter  and   force 
would  cry  out,  "  There  is  a  spirit  after  all !  "     But 
215 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

no  apparition  from  the  dead  could  make  a  selfish 
man  loving.  It  could  make  him  fly  with  food  and 
nourishment  to  the  bedside  of  an  invalid — but  not 
for  love.  He  would  fly  on  the  wings  of  fright ; 
he  would  travel  on  the  steps  of  trepidation. 
Many  a  sceptic  who  rejects  Moses  and  the 
prophets  would  be  persuaded  by  a  spiritualistic 
seance ;  but  no  man  whose  pity  was  not  kindled 
by  Moses  and  the  prophets  would  have  it  kindled 
by  a  spiritualistic  seance.  If  his  soul  was  not 
touched  by  the  child  in  the  Nile  river  and  by  all 
the  waifs  and  strays  that  have  since  been  there,  if 
his  heart  was  not  heavy  with  the  burden  of 
Egypt's  slaves  and  of  all  the  future  slaves  of  loom 
and  factory,  if  his  spirit  was  not  bowed  with  the 
weight  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows  and  of  all  the 
sorrowful  souls  of  which  He  is  the  type,  in  vain 
would  he  behold  the  rending  of  the  tomb — in  vain 
would  the  tables  rap  and  the  furniture  move  and 
the  solemn  message  descend ;  he  would  not  be 
persuaded ! 

Lord,  I  have  often  asked  myself  why  Thou  hast 
not  appeared  to  me,  to  solve  my  doubts  in  visible 
form.  It  is  because  my  doubts  are  not  the  main 
subject  of  Thy  solicitude.  The  main  subject  of 
Thy  solicitude  is  my  want  of  charity  to  man. 
Not  in  my  deep  sense  of  mystery,  but  in  my 
216 


CHRIST^S  DISPARAGEMENT  OF  APPARITIONS 

shallow  sense  of  mercy  dost  Thou  read  corruption. 
If  my  sin  were  the  sense  of  mystery,  a  thousand 
voices  from  the  sky  would  speak  to  give  me  light, 
for  there  could  be  no  cure  for  mystery  like  a  voice 
from  the  sky.  But  my  sin  is  selfishness,  loveless- 
ness.  What  voice  from  the  sky  would  speak  to 
that  /  The  voice  which  speaks  to  that  must  be 
one  crying  in  the  wilderness.  Send  me  these 
wilderness  cries,  O  Christ ;  wake  me  to  the 
burdens  of  Moses !  Let  me  hear  the  masses 
crying  for  the  manna  !  Let  me  see  the  wailing 
crowd  beside  the  bitter  waters  !  Let  me  view  the 
people  stricken  by  the  pestilence !  Let  me  feel 
the  depression  of  those  whose  life  is  a  desert ! 
Let  me  know  the  weariness  of  anxious  waiting, 
the  languor  of  a  long  look-out,  the  torture  of  pro- 
tracted time,  the  pain  of  a  promised  land  that 
does  not  come,  the  murmuring  that  is  born  of 
mornings  that  bring  no  change,  the  rebellion  of 
the  heart  that  resents  the  faintness  of  the  hand  1 
No  voices  from  the  sky  will  equal  these. 


217 


The  Guests  at  Christ^s  Own  Table 

"As  Jesus  sat  at  meat  in  His  house,  many  publicans  and 
sinners  sat  together  with  Jesus  and  His  disciples." — Mark  ii.  15. 

This  is  to  my  mind  the  most  unique  passage  in 
the  New  Testament.  It  is  the  only  instance  I 
know  in  which  Jesus  plays  the  part  of  host  or 
entertainer.  Everywhere  else  He  is  a  guest ; 
here,  for  the  first  and  last  time,  we  meet  Him  in 
His  own  house,  at  His  own  table.  It  was  not  a 
communion  table.  The  disciples  were  there; 
but  publicans  and  sinners  were  there  too.  Around 
that  table  there  must  have  been  a  great  diversity 
of  theological  opinion.  The  disciples  and  the 
publicans  had  no  dogmas  in  common ;  yet  they 
both  sat  at  Christ's  board.  What  enabled  them 
to  sit  together  ?  We  can  understand  how  men 
can  "  sit  together  in  heavenly  places " — in  the 
sense  of  a  common  faith.  But  what  bound  in  one 
these  souls  so  different  ?  It  was  their  love  for  the 
Son  of  Man.  It  was  their  love  for  the  earthly 
2i8 


THE  GUESTS  AT  CHRISTY  OWN  TABLE 

Christ — the  brother-Christ,  the  Christ  of  the 
street  and  of  the  lane.  The  publicans  and  sinners 
were  not  yet  dreaming  of  salvation.  They  were 
seeking  no  supernatural  help.  It  was  the  natural 
in  Christ  which  they  loved — the  voice,  the  gait, 
the  manner,  the  countenance.  They  loved  Him 
for  less  than  He  was  worth.  The  private  friends 
of  a  poet  may  be  unable  to  appreciate  any  poetry ; 
yet  the  man  may  be  very  dear  to  them,  and  he 
will  accept  their  outside  fondness.  So  did  Jesus 
accept  a  love  for  that  which  was  His  least  posses- 
sion. It  was  a  love  for  something  inferior,  but  it 
was  not  an  inferior  love.  Do  not  measure  the 
strength  of  love  by  its  cause.  Many  of  these 
publicans  would  have  gone  to  the  stake  as  readily 
as  the  disciples — though  they  would  have  gone  for 
another  motive.  The  love  in  the  disciple  was  fire 
on  the  mount,  the  love  in  the  publican  was  fire  on 
the  plain  ;  but  a  fire  on  the  plain  may  be  as  hot  as 
a  fire  on  the  mount.  Jesus  saw  the  difference,  but 
He  accepted  both. 

I  thank  Thee,  O  Christ,  for  this  one  revelation 
of  Thyself  as  a  social  friend.  I  have  seen  on  Thy 
head  many  crowns.  I  have  seen  Thee  as  teacher, 
healer,  saviour.  I  have  seen  Thee  in  the  storm, 
I  have  seen  Thee  in  the  sickroom,  I  have  seen 
Thee  on  the  cross.    But  I  should  have  missed 

319 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

something  if  there  had  not  been  one  hour  of 
simple  unbending,  of  mere  human  brotherhood 
for  its  own  sake — for  itself  alone.  I  bless  Thee 
for  this  revealing  of  a  purely  human  hour.  We 
are  not  all  ready  for  Thy  communion  bread ;  we 
are  not  all  ready  for  Thy  sermon  on  the  hill ;  we 
are  not  even  all  ready  to  be  fed,  like  paupers, 
in  the  wilderness.  But  we  all  understand  the 
brotherhood  of  man.  We  all  understand  the  life 
of  the  comrade.  There  may  be  a  fellowship  of 
the  heart  where  there  is  not  fellowship  of  the 
spirit.  They  who  have  not  yet  gathered  within 
Thy  Church  may  already  sit  at  meat  in  Thy 
house.  May  Thy  disciples  be  willing  to  sit  beside 
them  there !  Let  them  not  refuse  the  name  of 
Christian  to  those  who  as  yet  are  but  social  guests 
of  Thee !  Methinks  it  is  of  these  little  children 
Thou  sayest,  *'  Suffer  them  to  come,  and  forbid 
them  not!  "  We  do  not  forbid,  O  Lord.  What 
are  we  that  we  should  refuse  to  associate  with 
Thy  guests !  They  have  never  been  at  the  temple; 
but  they  have  dined  at  Thy  house.  Thy  house  is 
larger  than  our  temple.  Thy  table  is  wider  than 
our  communion.  Thou  hast  issued  more  invita- 
tions than  we.  We  ask  disciples ;  Thou  biddest 
the  alien.  We  ask  converts;  Thou  biddest  the 
sinner?    We  ask  the  assured;  Thou  biddest  the 

220 


THE  GUESTS  AT  CHRISTS  OWN  TABLE 

doubting.  We  ask  the  members ;  Thou  biddest 
those  outside.  We  ask  those  who  can  say,  "  Thou 
art  the  Christ  of  God  "  ;  Thou  biddest,  in  addition 
to  these,  those  who  in  wonder  cry,  "  Never  man 
spake  Hke  this  man  1 " 


221 


Roman  Power  and  Christian  Power 


"  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  for  it  is  the  power 
of  God  unto  salvation.'* — Rom.  i.  i6. 


Paul  always  suited  his  preaching  to  his  hearers. 
His  hearers  were  at  present  the  Romans.  The 
thing  they  reverenced  above  all  others  was  power. 
Their  dislike  to  Christianity  proceeded  from  its 
seeming  weakness.  Paul  says  they  are  under  a 
false  impression.  He  declares  that  Christianity 
is  distinguished  by  the  very  element  they  love — 
power.  He  says  that  even  from  their  own  point 
of  view  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  be  ashamed  of, 
that  it  has  a  Roman  feature  about  it — strength. 
"  The  power  of  God  unto  salvation  "—how  strange 
the  words  must  have  sounded  to  the  Mistress  of 
the  World  !  Her  formula  had  been,  "  The  power 
of  empire  unto  destruction " — the  power  that 
could  crush  down  all  opposition  by  killing  the 
opponent.  But  here  was  a  novel  mode  of  power 
— the  crushing  of  opposition  by  conciliating  the 
opponent.     "  Do  you  call  that  power !  "  laughed 

222 


ROMAN  POWER  AND  CHRISTIAN  POWER 

the  Roman;  "that  is  what  anybody  could  do." 
The  Roman  was  wrong.  The  greatest  power  in 
the  world  is  the  power  to  save  a  human  soul, 
because,  of  all  things  in  the  world,  it  is  the  hardest 
to  do.  What !  you  say,  can  anything  be  difficult 
for  the  power  of  God  !  Yes,  one  thing — the 
restraining  of  that  power.  And  the  salvation  of  a 
human  soul  requires  that.  Salvation  would  be  a 
very  easy  thing  if  man  could  be  treated  as  a  star — 
driven  mechanically  within  a  certain  orbit  and 
commanded  to  keep  there.  He  could  be  thus 
driven,  but  he  could  not  thus  be  saved.  Salvation 
demands  a  tempering  of  the  power  of  God.  If  I 
am  to  be  saved,  the  ship  of  God  must  not  be  in 
full  sail.  There  must  be  room  for  my  will,  room 
for  my  conscience,  room  for  my  love.  It  is  this 
that  makes  salvation  to  my  Father  a  source  of 
care.  How  gladly  would  He  save  the  drunkard  at 
once — quench  his  thirst  and  blunt  his  craving. 
But  that  would  be  the  treatment  of  a  star,  not  of 
a  man.  My  Father  has  to  suppress  His  power,  to 
rein  it  in.  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  rein  it  in — when 
He  longs  so  much  to  say,  "  Peace,  be  still !  "  But 
this  man's  tossing  is  not  an  ocean  to  be  laid  to  rest 
at  Divine  will ;  it  is  a  conscious  heart,  and  must 
be  treated  as  a  heart.  It  is  a  life,  a  soul,  a  spirit ; 
and  it  must  respond  to  the  touch  of  life  and  soul 
223 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

and  spirit.     It  must  receive  God  into  its  own  ship 
if  it  wants  to  see  land. 

My  soul,  often  hast  thou  admired  the  Roman 
power  of  conquest.  Hast  thou  considered  a  power 
of  conquest  that  is  greater  still — the  power  unto 
salvation.  Place  before  thee  these  two  figures — 
Caesar  and  Christ.  Which  is  the  greater  con- 
queror ?  Hast  thou  pondered  the  difference 
between  the  subduing  of  a  body  and  the  subduing 
of  a  heart  ?  To  take  captive  a  body  is  to  imprison 
it ;  but  to  take  captive  a  heart  is  to  release  it.  To 
take  captive  a  body  is  to  deprive  it  of  voluntary 
movement ;  but  to  take  captive  a  heart  is  to  give 
it  wings.  To  take  captive  a  body  is  to  mutilate 
it,  limit  it,  impair  it ;  but  to  take  captive  a  heart 
is  to  lend  it  radiance,  beauty,  charm.  To  take 
captive  a  body  is  to  kill  the  bird  in  catching  it ; 
but  to  take  captive  a  heart  is  to  give  the  bird  room 
in  heaven.  Thy  heart  is  never  free  till  it  is  cap- 
tured. Love  is  the  capture  of  thy  heart.  It  is 
the  only  conquest  that  enlarges  the  prisoner. 
The  loveless  heart  is  the  pulseless  heart.  Knowest 
thou  why  it  is  written  that  Christ  makes  thee  free  ? 
It  is  because  thy  heart  has  no  freedom  till  it  has  a 
master.  It  flies  by  its  fetter ;  it  mounts  by  its 
manacle;  it  soars  by  its  surrender;  it  beams  by 
its  bonds ;  it  carols  by  its  cords ;  it  expands  by 
224 


ROMAN  POWER  AND  CHRISTIAN  POWER 

its  enclosure ;  it  deepens  by  its  dependence ;  it 
grows  young  by  the  sense  of  its  yoke.  Thy  heart 
is  never  so  rich  as  when  it  is  conquered  by 
another;  I  am  not  ashamed  of  subjection  to 
love. 


865 


The  Spontaneity  of  True  Charity 

••  He  sighed  deeply  in  His  spirit,  and  saith,  Why  doth  this 
generation  seek  after  a  sign  ?  " — Mark  viii.  12. 

The  Pharisees  had  asked  Christ  for  a  sign  from 
heaven,  that  is  to  say,  a  sign  from  the  sky.  It  was 
as  if  they  had  said,  "  We  see  a  great  deal  of  bodily 
healing  by  your  hand.  Yet,  after  all,  there  is 
nothing  supernatural  in  bodily  healing.  We  all 
know  that  mind  has  influence  over  body — that 
faith  can  strengthen  the  physical,  that  hope  can 
aid  health,  that  love  can  cure  lassitude,  that 
novelty  can  divert  from  nerves.  All  this  happens 
quite  naturally.  But  let  us  see  you  arrest  a  star, 
let  us  behold  you  turn  the  course  of  a  planet,  let 
us  witness  you  bringing  the  rain  after  drought  or 
the  sunshine  after  rain,  and  then  we  shall  believe 
in  you."  Now,  where  lay  the  sting  of  this  to 
Jesus ;  what  was  there  in  it  that  made  Him  sigh  in 
spirit  ?  Was  it  because  men  doubted  His  power 
to  work  a  sign  in  heaven  ?  No ;  it  was  because 
they  attributed  His  benevolence  to  the  desire  of 
226 


THE  SPONTANEITY  OF  TRUE  CHARITY 

working  a  sign  upon  earth.  Such  an  imputation 
would  make  any  philanthropist  sigh.  Imagine  a 
child  meeting  with  an  accident  when  a  doctor  was 
passing  and  that  the  doctor  offered  his  services. 
Imagine  that  the  next  morning  a  paragraph 
appeared  in  the  newspapers  stating  that  he  offered 
his  help  with  a  view  to  manifest  his  medical  skill. 
Would  not  this  physician  feel  that  he  had  been 
misrepresented  in  character  and  depreciated  in  the 
moral  scale.  That  is  an  exact  parallel.  When 
Jesus  saw  an  accident  in  the  streets  of  Hfe  He 
offered  His  services;  but  He  did  not  offer  His 
services  as  a  proof  of  His  Messianic  skill.  He 
offered  them  because  He  could  not  help  it.  He 
brought  succour,  not  to  show  that  He  was  master 
of  Divine  power,  but  because  the  sorrows  of 
human  nature  mastered  Him.  He  was  never 
more  passive  than  in  His  acts  of  healing.  Our 
calamities  overwhelmed  Him.  His  charities  taught 
a  lesson,  but  He  did  not  bestow  them  to  teach  a 
lesson.  He  bestowed  them  to  ease  His  own  pain. 
Cana's  poverty  made  Him  uncomfortable. 
Bethany's  grief  bowed  Him.  The  leper's  fate 
lacerated  Him.  The  demoniac's  cry  disturbed 
Him.  The  task  of  the  toilers  tired  Him.  The 
burdens  of  the  worldly  wearied  Him.  The  pain 
of  Dives'  thirst  parched  Him.  The  remorse  of 
227  p  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Magdalene  marred  His  visage.     He  gave  because 
He  must. 

My  Father,  do  not  let  me  dispense  my  charities 
as  a  sign !  Do  not  let  me  say,  ^'  This  will  show 
that  I  amx  rich — dowered  with  ample  means  and 
able  to  bid  the  cup  overflow ! "  Do  not  let  me 
say,  "  This  will  show  that  I  am  generous — willing 
to  share  my  superfluities  with  those  who  have  not 
enough!"  Do  not  even  let  me  say,  "This  will 
show  that  I  am  a  Christian — a  follower  of  the 
Messiah  and  a  partaker  of  His  spirit !  "  Let  me 
say  nothing,  but  "  Let  there  be  light !  "  May  I 
give  to  my  brother  because  his  thirst  makes  a 
thorn  in  me !  May  I  give  because  my  pity  is  a 
pain  to  me,  my  sorrow  a  soreness,  my  compassion 
a  cross !  May  I  give  because  I  cannot  help  it ! 
To  me,  as  to  Thy  Christ,  the  tempter  comes,  and 
cries,  *'  If  thou  wouldst  make  thyself  popular, 
command  that  the  stones  be  made  bread."  I 
should  like  to  transform  the  stones  of  the  desert — 
but  not  for  the  tempter's  reason.  I  would  not 
gaze  into  my  looking-glass  before  I  dispense  my 
charity.  I  would  not  part  with  my  riches  for  the 
sake  of  being  popular.  I  can  never  make  the 
stones  bread  if  my  own  image  is  behind  them. 
Break  that  image,  O  Lord,  or  I  cannot  break  the 
bread.  I  can  only  give  by  being  self-forgetting. 
228 


THE  SPONTANEITY  OF  TRUE  CHARITY 

Veil  me  from  my  own  view  !  Cover  me  from  my 
own  consciousness !  Hide  me  from  my  own 
heart !  Bury  me  from  my  own  boastings !  Let 
my  charity  be  childlike !  Let  my  mercy  be 
motiveless !  Let  my  pity  be  born  of  passion ! 
Let  my  gifts  be  self-regardless  !  Let  me  love  work 
latently !  Blind  me  to  my  own  beneficence ! 
Screen  me  from  my  own  serving !  Deafen  me  to 
the  music  of  my  own  deeds  !  Then  over  me  will 
the  Son  of  Man  sigh  no  more. 


229 


The  Flowers  of  Bethany 

*•  And  He  led  them  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany.  And  it  came  to 
pass,  while  He  blessed  them,  He  was  parted  from  them,  and 
carried  up  into  heaven." — John  xxiv.  50,  51. 

*'  He  led  them  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany."  Why 
did  He  make  that  the  terminus  ?  Why  did  He 
only  become  invisible  when  He  reached  Bethany  ? 
Because  only  when  we  have  grasped  the  lessons  of 
Bethany  are  we  fit  to  bear  in  mind  the  presence  of 
an  unseen  Christ.  Bethany  sums  up  His  whole 
revelation  —  the  brotherhood  in  life  and  the 
brotherhood  in  death.  It  shows  us  the  Master  at 
the  festive  board — uniting  man  to  man  in  social 
fellowship.  It  shows  us  the  Master  in  the  hour 
of  bereavement — bidding  man  aspire  to  fellowship 
beyond  the  grave.  In  leading  His  disciples  to 
Bethany  before  parting  with  them,  Christ  virtu- 
ally says,  "You  can  do  without  my  visible 
presence  when  you  have  reached  these  two  things 
— strength  for  life's  feast  and  strength  for  life's 
fast.  I  will  not  disappear  from  your  outward 
gaze  until  your  inward  gaze  has  centred  on  these 
2  so 


THE  FLOWERS  OF  BETHANY 

two  extremes.  You  must  get  as  far  as  Bethany 
in  leading-strings.  But  when  you  have  looked  at 
the  sight  revealed  there,  when  you  have  become 
adequate  to  bear  the  trials  of  human  contact  and 
the  trials  of  human  bereavement,  you  have  arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  I  can  leave  you  there. 
There  is  a  time  when  men  are  ripe  for  being  left 
alone — when  they  have  learned  enough  to  dispense 
with  the  guiding  of  a  visible  hand.  Your  time  of 
ripeness  is  come  when  you  have  learned  the  two 
lessons  of  Bethany." 

My  soul,  when  thou  art  mourning  an  absent 
Lord,  keep  thine  eye  on  Bethany!  When  thou 
art  complaining  that  thy  Christ  has  passed  into 
the  silence,  keep  thine  eye  on  Bethany  !  When 
thou  art  lamenting  that  He  has  left  no  traces  of 
His  earthly  presence,  keep  thine  eye  on  Bethany ! 
Remember  that  He  left  thee  not  till  He  had  led 
thee  to  the  lessons  of  that  home — the  Christ  in 
human  joy  and  the  Christ  in  human  sorrow. 
These  are  the  two  flowers  of  Bethany,  and  they 
have  made  the  world  new.  Bethink  thee  what 
the  world  was  without  these  Bethany  flowers.  It 
saw  no  God  in  social  joy  and  it  saw  no  God  in 
death.  It  had  no  place  for  the  feast  of  a  common 
brotherhood;  it  had  no  place  for  comfort  at  a 
human  grave.     Lazarus  had   few  guests  for  the 

231 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

banquet ;  Martha  had  few  wreaths  for  the  tomb. 
But  when  the  feet  of  the  Lord  touched  Bethany, 
there  sprang  for  thee  these  flowers  of  hope. 
SociaUty  was  for  thee  made  sacred ;  death  was 
for  thee  made  luminous.  Henceforth  thy  joy  and 
thy  pain  have  both  a  wreath  from  thy  Father. 
The  flower  of  Martha's  feast  is  on  every  festal 
board;  the  flower  of  Lazarus'  tomb  is  on  every 
modern  grave.  Thou  canst  not  escape  these 
flowers ;  they  have  reddened  the  evening  sky ; 
they  have  lit  with  their  glow  earth's  later  years. 
He  rose  not  on  Easter  wing  till  He  had  planted 
them  for  thee ;  and  what  He  has  planted  time  has 
not  uprooted.  He  has  faded  from  thy  view,  but 
His  two  flowers  remain — the  sacredness  of  sociality 
and  the  sacredness  of  sorrow.  Keep  them  ;  tend 
them  ;  water  them  ;  never  let  them  die  !  Let  no 
rough  hand  tear  them ;  let  no  impure  touch  soil 
them ;  let  no  blast  of  grief  wither  them !  Keep 
them,  through  the  years ;  keep  them,  spite  of 
fears  ;  keep  them,  undimmed  by  tears  !  So  shalt 
thou  preserve  the  latest  gifts  of  Easter  Morning ; 
so  shalt  thou  keep  green  the  memory  of  thy  Lord. 


232 


The  Preparation  for  a  Religious  Life 

••  Quicken  us,  and  we  will  call  upon  Thy  name."  — 
Psalm  lxxx.  i8. 

This  is  a  singular  prayer  from  the  worldly  point 
of  view.  The  common  notion  is  that  religion  is 
a  dulling  process — a  cooling-down  of  the  pulses 
of  life.  We  speak  of  the  yielding  to  temptation 
as  fast  living,  and  we  blame  for  it  what  we  call 
the  ardour  of  youth.  When  a  man  begins  to 
think  seriously  we  say  that  he  has  sobered  down, 
grown  mellow,  abated  in  the  fire  of  early  years. 
All  this  implies  one  idea — that  seriousness  of  life 
is  a  deadening  of  life.  The  psalmist  takes  exactly 
the  opposite  view,  *'  Quicken  us,  and  we  will  call 
upon  Thy  name."  To  him  religion  is  not  a 
dulling,  but  a  vivifying,  process — a  process  which 
does  not  diminish  but  which  increases  the  heart's 
ardour,  which  does  not  retard  but  which  accelerates 
the  pulses  of  being.  He  would  suggest  that  to 
become  religious  a  man  needs,  not  less  life,  but 
more — not  a  narrowing  but  an  enlargement  of 
the  vital  stream.     It  is  generally  supposed  that 

233 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

when  we  begin  to  live  in  God  we  must  subside 
in  our  life  for  the  world.  The  psalmist,  on  the 
contrary,  says  that  before  religion  can  dawn  there 
must  be  a  natural  vivifying  of  the  worldly  powers, 
"  Quicken  us,  and  we  will  call  upon  Thy  name.'* 
Religion  in  the  heart  is  made  the  result  of  intensi- 
fied natural  life.  And  I  think  it  will  be  found 
that  the  psalmist  is  right.  For,  what  is  the  pre- 
vailing cause  of  irreligion  ?  I  say  "  irreligion  " — 
not  "  doubt,"  for  doubt  is  a  form  of  religious 
seriousness.  What,  I  ask,  is  the  prevailing  cause 
of  irreligion  ?  It  is  indifference.  And  what  is 
"  indifference  "  ?  Is  it  not  simply  deadness — want 
of  interest  in  the  things  of  life.  If  you  would 
make  a  religious  man  serious,  you  must  quicken 
his  pulse  to  the  objects  around  him.  It  is  this 
quickening  of  the  pulse  that  the  irreligious  man 
resists.  It  is  to  resist  intense  feehng  about 
worldly  things  that  he  often  drugs  himself  with 
wine.  It  is  to  resist  intense  feeling  about  worldly 
things  that  he  flies  from  flower  to  flower  of 
pleasure,  deadening  his  appetite  as  he  goes.  It 
is  to  resist  intense  feeling  about  worldly  things 
that  he  rests  not  in  any  spot,  however  green,  but 
changes  his  place  each  hour  lest  he  should  read 
its  solemnity.  It  is  by  veiling  my  sight  of  earth 
that  I  lose  my  sight  of  heaven. 

234 


THE  PREPARATION  FOR  A  RELIGIOUS  LIFE 

Lord,  they  tell  me  that  to  call  upon  Thy  name 
I  must  forget  my  own — become  dead  to  that 
world  which  surrounds  me.  I  have  learned,  my 
Father,  that  it  is  not  so.  I  never  really  knew 
my  need  of  Thee  till  the  sense  of  my  own  life 
was  magnified.  It  was  when  my  natural  heart 
expanded  that  I  found  earth  was  too  small  for 
me.  When  my  pulses  were  dead  I  had  no  thirst 
for  Thy  life  eternal ;  earth  seemed  long  enough — 
sometimes  too  long.  But  Thou  camest  to  me 
with  a  human  love,  and  the  time  seemed  short ; 
I  cried  to  Thee  for  a  larger  span  of  existence  in 
which  to  enjoy  my  soul.  It  is  my  quickened 
human  life  that  longs  for  Thine  immortahty.  My 
quickened  charity  longs  for  it;  I  want  my  poor 
brothers  to  have  a  larger  room.  My  quickened 
justice  longs  for  it ;  I  want  a  sequel  to  unfinished 
tales.  My  quickened  sense  of  usefulness  longs 
for  it ;  I  want  a  place  for  powers  that  slumber 
here.  My  quickened  fancy  longs  for  it ;  I  want  a 
beauty  more  flawless,  a  music  more  melodious, 
than  earth  can  yield.  My  quickened  memory 
longs  for  it ;  I  want  to  see  a  vindication  of  my 
past.  My  quickened  feeling  of  mystery  longs 
for  it ;  I  want  to  taste  the  tree  of  knowledge 
in  Thy  paradise,  O  God.  It  is  by  life  I 
embrace  Thy  life ;  it  is  by  love  I  respond  to  Thy 

235 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

love.  It  is  not  by  being  blunted  that  1  shall 
prepare  to  meet  Thee.  Brace  me  for  Thy  breath  ! 
Dower  me  for  Thy  descending  Spirit !  Gird  me 
for  Thy  grace  !  Heighten  me  for  Thy  habitation  ! 
Ornament  me  for  Thine  ordinances !  Paint  me 
for  Thy  picture-gallery !  Stimulate  my  worldly 
powers  for  the  service  of  Thy  sanctuary  !  When 
Thou  hast  quickened  me  I  will  call  upon  Thy 
name. 


236 


The  Prayer  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus 

"When  they  wanted  wine,  the  mother  of  Jesus  saith  unto 
Him,  They  have  no  wine."— John  ii.  3. 

It  is  not  often  that  a  scene  of  gaiety  is  made 
a  place  for  prayer.  This  was  a  scene  of  gaiety — 
it  was  a  marriage-feast.  And  this  was  made  a 
place  for  prayer — by  the  very  mother  of  Jesus. 
There  is,  moreover,  a  peculiarity  about  this  prayer ; 
it  is  a  prayer  for  the  continuance  of  the  festivity. 
During  a  time  of  revival  I  have  heard  of  hymns 
being  sung  at  a  football  match.  But  that  was 
meant  rather  as  a  reminder  of  the  things  of 
eternity  than  as  a  help  to  the  joys  of  time.  In 
a  very  different  direction  is  the  prayer  of  the 
Lord's  mother  designed  to  lead.  What  she  asks 
is  the  supply  of  something  which  is  lacking  to  the 
feast.  The  wine  has  failed.  It  might  have  made 
a  fine  occasion  for  teaching  the  vanity  of  earthly 
things.  But  Mary  wants  to  make  it  an  occasion  for 
teaching  the  opposite.  She  does  not  desire  the 
merriment  to  be  damped  by  signs  of  poverty.  She 
appeals  to  Jesus.     She  does  not  put  her  prayer 

237 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

into  words.  She  simply  points  to  the  deficiency, 
as  if  the  fact  of  a  deficiency  would  be  enough  for 
Him;  she  says,  "They  have  no  wine."  "What 
an  unspiritual  prayer  !  "  you  say ;  "is  it  not  a 
petition  for  the  supply  of  mere  temporal  need,  a 
request  for  the  perishable  things  of  the  flesh !  " 
Pause,  my  brother.  For  whom  is  this  secular 
object  desired?  Is  it  for  the  suppliant  herself? 
No ;  personally,  Mary  cared  nothing  about 
it.  She  wants  it  for  a  humble  family  in  a 
Galilean  village.  She  wants  to  help  the  pecu- 
niary resources  of  a  household  which  has  been 
sorely  strained  by  the  necessity  for  an  un- 
wonted expenditure.  She  would  like  the  sun 
to  shine  upon  the  bride  all  through  the  day,  and 
she  deprecates  any  cloud  that  would  interrupt 
its  shining.  Accordingly,  she  prays  that  no 
untoward  omen  may  seem  to  throw  a  shadow  over 
the  nuptial  pair.  Is  that  secular  ?  I  call  it  the 
most  sacred  wish  in  the  world.  It  mounts  to  the 
altar  by  physical  steps ;  but  its  offering  is  purely 
mental.  Mary  forgets  all  about  herself ;  she  veils 
herself  from  her  own  view,  from  her  own  prayer. 
She  looks  into  her  mirror  and  sees — another.  She 
realises  a  want  not  hers,  a  need  not  personal.  She 
seeks  the  highest  help  in  a  thing  which  many 
would  consider  a  trifle ;  but  she  seeks  it  for  others, 
238 


THE  PRAYER  OF  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS 

and  there  is  nothing  so  hard  as  to  remember  others 
in  trifles.  Unselfishness  in  little  matters  is  the  top 
of  the  sacrificial  hill. 

My  brother,  my  sister,  there  is  a  place  for  your 
prayers  in  the  scene  of  gaiety.     Have  you  ever 
thought  of  the  heaviness  which  may  lie  behind  the 
mask  of  flowers  ?     You   expect  to  find  heaviness 
at  Bethany— it  is   the  place  of  the    tombstone  ; 
when  you  go  there,  you  go  prepared  to  pray.     But 
have  you  never  felt  that  Cana  too  has  its  tears  ! 
Have    you    never    figured    the    hearts    that    are 
famished  at  the  feast,  the  souls  that  are  burdened 
at  the  banquet,  the  spirits  that  are  downcast  in 
the  dance  !    Have  you  never  reaHsed  that  beneath 
the  gay  garments  there  may  be  the  anticipation 
of  a  "  decease  to  be  accomplished,"  the  shadow  of 
a  coming  darkness,  the  sense  of  some  danger  to  be 
met  to-morrow  !     If  you  have  not,  begin  to  realise 
it  now  !     When  you  go  to  the  shining  scene,  put 
a  prayer-book  in  your  heart !     Whose  names  will 
you  write  there  ?    Will  it  be  the  names  of  those 
who  are  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  the  hour  ?     No, 
but  of  those  who  are  not  enjoying  it.     Remember 
those  who  are  regardless  of   life's   roses  !     Com- 
passionate those  who  are  unconscious  of  the  joy 
of  Cana  !     Bleed  for  those  who  are  oblivious  of  an 
outward  blessing  1    Pity  the  hearts  that  faint  amid 

239 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

the  flowers,  that  groan  in  the  gardens,  that 
languish  in  the  hght  of  day  !  Pray  for  their  com- 
fort at  the  feast !  Ask  for  their  joy  at  the  banquet ! 
Long  that  they  may  be  glad  amid  the  music !  Seek 
that  they  may  participate  in  the  laughter  !  They 
are  too  crushed  for  the  companionship  of  Cana ;  call 
upon  God  to  fit  them  for  their  joy !  So  shall  you 
be  partakers  in  the  virgin's  prayer. 


240 


The  Origin  of  Wonder 

"  Open  Thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  wondrous  things 
out  of  Thy  law."— PsA.  cxix.  i8. 

This  is  a  very  uncommon  idea — that  wonder 
should  be  the  result  of  intellectual  development  or 
the  "  opening  of  the  eyes."     The  prevailing  notion 
is  the  reverse— that  wonder  belongs  to  the  primi- 
tive age   alike  of  the  individual  and  of  the  race. 
We    say    colloquially,   "I    opened    my   eyes    in 
astonishment  " ;  the   psalmist's   expression   is  the 
converse,  "  I  became  astonished  by  opening  my 
eyes."     What  the  psalmist  says  is  that  the  marvels 
of  life  escape  us  by  reason  of  our  ignorance.     His 
prayer  is  just  the  contrary  of  the  common  prayer. 
The  common  prayer  is,  ''  Make  me  a  simple  child 
again  that  I  may  feel  the  mystery  of  all  things 
and  bow  with  reverence  before  them."     But  the 
psalmist  says,  "  Emancipate  me  from  the  ignorance 
of  childhood,  for  it  is  only  when  I  shall  see  with  the 
eyes  of  a  man  that  I  shall  behold  the  mystery,  the 
marvel,  the  unfathomable  depth,  of  that  ocean  on 
whose  bosom  I  live  and  move  and  have  my  being." 
241  G 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Which  is  right — the  common  view  or  the  Bible 
view  ?  Beyond  all  question,  the  latter.  Do  we 
find  that  the  sense  of  wonder  belongs  to  children  ? 
Not  so.  The  sense  of  mystery  is  precisely  what  a 
child  does  not  feel.  He  asks  many  questions ;  but 
he  will  accept  the  crudest  answers  as  quite 
adequate  explanations.  He  has  not  a  con- 
sciousness of  limitation.  He  has  a  feeling  of 
power  beyond  his  strength;  he  will  put  out  his 
hand  to  catch  the  moon.  He  does  not  at  an  early 
date  inquire  where  he  came  from.  He  does  not 
ask  who  made  a  watch  or  who  made  the  sun.  To 
him  the  watch  and  the  sun  are  both  alive — moving 
by  their  own  strength,  upheld  by  their  own  power. 
His  eyes  are  not  opened,  and  therefore  his  wonder 
is  not  awake.  To  wake  his  wonder  you  must 
unbar  the  door  of  his  mind.  The  mystery  comes 
with  his  experience — not  with  the  want  of  it.  I 
do  not  read  that  men  marvelled  in  Eden ;  I  do 
that  they  marvelled  in  Galilee.  Eden  was  as 
wonderful  as  Galilee  ;  but  the  eyes  were  not  opened. 
Knowledge  is  the  parent  of  mystery.  Experience 
is  the  forerunner  of  reverence.  Only  they  who  have 
let  down  the  pitcher  can  utter  the  cry,  "  The  well 
is  deep." 

Lord,  there  are  times  in  which  I  long  to   get 
back — back  to  the  gates  of  the  morning.     I  desire 
242 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  WONDER 

to  see  again  the  first  of  things  and  feel  the  primi- 
tive wonder — to  gaze  once  more  on  life  as  it  began 
for  me  in  the  garden  of  my  childhood,  in  the  Eden 
of  my  dawn.  But  Thou  art  teaching  me,  Thou 
art  teaching  Thy  psalmist,  an  opposite  prayer,  O 
Lord.  Thou  art  teaching  me  that  there  never  was 
a  primitive  wonder — teaching  me  that  wonder  lies 
not  in  the  rising,  but  in  the  setting,  sun.  Thou 
art  calling  to  me,  not  to  go  back,  but  to  go  forward 
— to  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  to  those 
experiences  which  morning  cannot  yield.  Thou 
art  telling  me  that  the  mystery  is  reached  at  the 
end,  that  the  marvel  is  found  at  the  close,  that  it 
is  "  in  the  last  days  '*  Thou  wilt  "  show  wonders  in 
heaven  above  and  signs  in  the  earth  beneath." 
Thou  sendest  me  to  knowledge  to  learn  humility  ; 
Thou  leadest  me  to  gaze  on  the  crystal  fountain 
that  I  may  cast  my  crown  at  Thy  feet.  Who  are 
Thy  poor  in  spirit.  Thy  mourners  for  their  own 
incompetence.  Thy  meek  ones.  Thy  hungering 
and  thirsting  to  explore  ?  Thou  seekest  them  on 
the  mount — not  in  the  valley.  Not  among  those 
who  have  not  begun  to  climb  dost  Thou  search  for 
them  whom  wonder  has  made  humble  ;  but  on  the 
mountain's  brow  where  the  sunbeams  play,  on  the 
summit  of  life's  hill  where  the  light  is  unobstructed 
— there    dost    Thou  look   to   find   them.     There 

243  Q  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

mayst  Thou  find  me,  O  Lord !  May  I  reach  the 
marvel  of  life's  mystery  by  the  path  of  knowledge  ! 
May  I  gain  the  true  morning  in  the  completed  day, 
the   true  wonder   in   the  finished  experience,  the  \ 

true  humility  on  the  top  of  the  hill !     The  child-  j 

hood  which  I  seek  lies  not  in  yesterday  but  in  to-  i 

morrow.    I  shall  begin  to  marvel  when  Thou  hast  | 

enlightened  mine  eyes.  : 


244 


Christianity  in  Common  Life 

••  His  name  shall  be  in  their  foreheads."— Rev.  xxii.  4. 

A  MAN  once  said  to  me,  "  You  carry  a  certificate 
of  health  in  your  face."  He  was  speaking  of 
physical  health.  But  it  struck  me  at  the  time, 
and  it  strikes  me  still,  that,  all  unconsciously  to 
himself,  he  was  illustrating  by  a  happy  metaphor 
the  meaning  of  this  passage.  St.  John  says  that 
in  the  New  Jerusalem  the  spiritual  health  of  men 
will  be  so  good  that  they  will  carry  a  certificate  of 
it  in  their  face,  or,  as  he  puts  it,  on  their  forehead. 
The  idea,  of  course,  is  that  their  Christian  character 
will  show  itself  in  the  very  front  of  their  lives,  that 
it  will  be  patent  to  the  observation  of  every  man. 
Now,  in  the  old  Jerusalem  this  cannot  always  be 
said  either  of  physical  or  spiritual  health.  Many 
people  look  delicate  who  are  inwardly  strong ; 
they  have  health,  but  they  do  not  carry  it  on  their 
foreheads.  In  like  manner  many  people  look 
frivolous  who  are  very  serious.  In  a  recent  book 
a  minister  tells  us  how  he  had  received  a  letter 
breathing  the  intensity  of  religious  emotion  from 

245 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

a  lady  of  his  congregation  whom,  to  meet  in 
society,  he  would  deem  the  gayest  of  the  gay, 
and  whom  he  would  believe  to  be  one  not  at  all 
interested  in  spiritual  things.  I  would  say  this 
woman  had  the  name  of  Christ  in  her  heart,  but 
not  on  her  forehead.  In  the  New  Jerusalem, 
however,  St.  John  declares  that  there  will  be  no 
difference  between  appearance  and  reality ;  men 
and  women  will  look  what  they  are,  and  be  what 
they  look.  The  Christ  in  the  heart  will  be 
advertised  in  the  countenance.  Does  that  mean 
there  will  be  only  one  subject  of  conversation  in 
the  New  Jerusalem  ?  No ;  Christ  is  not  the 
subject  of  a  conversation;  He  is  the  character  of 
a  conversation.  That  which  makes  your  converse 
Christian  is  not  what  you  speak  about,  but  the 
manner  in  which  you  speak.  A  man  could  never 
carry  Christ  on  his  forehead  if  Christ  were  simply 
a  topic  of  theology.  But  Christ  is  an  attitude  ot 
the  heart — a  sacrificial  attitude.  You  may  carry 
His  name  on  your  forehead  in  any  subject  of  con- 
versation, provided  you  speak  to  delight  another, 
and  not  to  display  yourself.  If  you  speak  to 
display  yourself,  your  listener  will  always  miss  the 
name  on  the  forehead — the  stamp  of  unselfishness ; 
he  will  read  the  stamp  of  egotism.  To  enjoy  you 
he  must  see  Christ  in  you. 
246 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  COMMON  LIFE 

Lord,  on  my  very  forehead  write  Thy  name — 
on  my  social  manner,  on  my  outward  presence,  on 
my  secular  hours  !  Thou  hast  said,  **  He  that  is 
faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in 
much."  Why  hast  Thou  said  that  ?  It  is  because 
the  forehead  is  the  climax  —  because  the  life  is 
only  perfected  when  it  tinges  the  trivial  hour. 
"When  I  go  into  society  write  Thy  name  on  my 
forehead !  Let  there  be  a  crucifying  of  my 
egotism !  Let  me  break  my  mirror  ere  I  go ! 
Do  not  let  me  consider  what  clever  thing  I  shall 
say !  Do  not  let  me  ponder  how  the  wave  of  my 
own  words  shall  raise  me  !  Do  not  let  me  medi- 
tate on  the  echoes  of  my  voice !  Do  not  let  me 
study  the  impression  I  shall  create  of  my  own 
glory !  Let  me  forget  myself — not  in  oblivion, 
but  in  love !  There  is  a  forgetfulness  which  can 
only  come  from  remembrance — my  remembrance 
of  my  brother.  Be  that  gift  mine,  O  Lord !  it  is 
the  sleep  of  Thy  beloved.  I  would  not  have  my 
image  hid  by  aught  but  a  brother's  image.  I 
would  not  forget  myself  in  wine,  in  temper,  in 
recklessness,  in  despair.  But  I  would  lose  myself 
in  love.  I  would  have  Thy  care  written  on  my 
forehead — the  wish  to  make  others  glad.  I  would 
shine  by  another's  light,  I  would  bloom  by 
another's  flower.     I  would  have  my  words  winged 

247 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

by  the  joy  of  giving  joy.  I  would  sacrifice  self 
in  the  scenes  men  deem  sensuous.  I  would  help 
my  brother's  social  hour.  I  would  cheer  my  sister's 
domestic  hearth.  I  would  sink  to  a  level  with  the 
child's  game.  I  would  move  to  the  music  of  sur- 
mounted pleasures.  I  would  live  in  the  pastimes 
of  inferiors.  I  would  manifest  an  interest,  yea, 
I  would  experience  an  interest,  in  fields  of  life  that 
have  ceased  to  be  gardens  for  me.  I  have  kept 
Thy  religion  for  deep  things.  Plant  it  also  on  the 
surface,  O  my  God !  Thy  name  is  in  my  heart ; 
write  it  on  my  forehead  i 


248 


The  Unconscious  Service  of  Christ 

"  They  gave  Him  vinegar  to  drink  mingled  with  gall."— 
Matt,  xxvii.  34. 

The  drink  offered  to  Jesus  was  a  narcotic.     It 
was  offered  in  mercy  and  it  was  offered  by  those 
opposed  to  His  doctrines.     It  was  given  by  the 
Roman  soldiers  with  a  view  to  mitigate  His  pain. 
The   act   is  deeply  suggestive.      I*  is  an  act   of 
friendship  performed  by  antagonists.     We  are  in 
the  habit  of  dividing  the  world  into  Christians 
and  non-Christians.     To  which  of  the  two  classes 
did  these  Roman  soldiers  belong  ?      They  were 
certainly  not  followers  of  Jesus ;  but  neither  were 
they  against  Him.     I  am  told  that  at  the  Day  of 
Judgment  those  will  be  on  the  right  hand  who 
gave  Him  drink,  and  those  on  the  left  hand  who 
did  not.    But  here  on  earth  He  has  received  drink 
from  those  apparently  on  the  left  hand — Roman 
soldiers  have  sought  to    assuage  His   sufferings  ! 
Is  it  not  the  same  still !    We  are  so  fond  of  sharp 
divisions  that  we  forget  the  intermediate  shades ; 
but  God  does  not.     There  are  men  among  us  who 
at  this  hour  are  helping  Jesus,  and  who  yet  profess 
to  yield  no  allegiance  but  to  Caesar,     They  are 
249 


MESSAGES   OF  HOPE 

numbered   among   the   legions,    not   among    the 
saints.     Yet,  wherever  the  Son  of  Man  is  cruci- 
fied, they  are  there.     They  have  not  yet  bowed  to 
His  crown ;  but  they  are  loyal  to  His  cross.    They 
have   not   adored   His   majesty  ;   but   they   have 
flocked  to  His  manger.     They  have  not  come  to 
the  wedding  at  Cana  ;    but  they  have  waited  on 
Him  in  the  wilderness.     They  are  absent  from  the 
scene  of  His  transfiguration  glory  ;  but  they  are 
present  at  His  tragedy  in  the  garden.     Wherever 
humanity    is    heavy-laden,    wherever    souls     are 
sad,  wherever  bodies  are  burdened,  wherever  days 
are  darkened,  wherever  man  is  mastered  by  the 
physical,  you  will  find  them  there.     In  the  den 
of  poverty,  by  the  couch  of  pain,  at  the  bed  of 
languishing,  on  the  track  of  fallenness,  you  will 
find   them   there.      Where    Noah    combats    the 
waters,  where  Abraham  journeys  homeless,  where 
Jacob  lies  on  a  stair,  where  Joseph  weeps  in  a 
dungeon,  where  Moses  mopes  in  a  desert,  where 
Elijah  hides  in  a  cave,  where  Job  pines  in  an 
infirmary,  where  the  Son  of  Man  fasts  in  a  wilder- 
ness, you  will  find  them  there.     They  see  not  the 
vintage  and  the  gold ;  but  they  bear  the  vinegar 
and  the  gall. 

Make  room  for  them  in  Thy  kingdom,  O  Lord, 
make  room  for  them  in  Thy  kingdom  !     Nay,  it  is 
250 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  SERVICE  OF  CHRIST 

we  who  are  to  make  room ;  "  the  ways  of  earth 
are  narrow,  but  the  ways  of  heaven  are  wide." 
Help  us  to  have  a  blessing  for  Esau  even  though 
he  is  not  the  child  of  the  birthright !  May  we 
find  a  place  in  our  sympathy  for  the  men  of  the 
vinegar  and  the  gall !  There  are  some  whose 
faith  is  the  prophecy  of  their  work — and  they  are 
the  larger  number.  But,  our  Father,  let  us 
remember  that  there  are  others  among  us  whose 
work  is  the  prophecy  of  their  faith — in  whom  the 
hand  precedes  the  eye.  They  are  not  led  to  the 
manger  by  the  star,  but  to  the  star  by  the  manger. 
They  come  only  to  bring  gifts  to  a  brother,  and 
one  day  they  will  find  they  have  been  serving  the 
Christ.  Let  us  give  them  credit  for  that  coming 
day;  let  us  accept  their  work  as  a  prophecy  of 
their  faith  !  Let  us  take  their  service  as  a  pre- 
diction of  their  song,  their  fruit  as  an  omen  of 
their  foliage !  They  see  not  yet  with  us  eye  to 
eye ;  but  they  can  touch  hand  to  hand.  Grant  us 
their  right  hand  of  fellowship,  O  Lord — their 
fellowship  in  work,  their  fellowship  in  counsel, 
their  fellowship  in  liberality,  their  fellowship  in 
human  sympathy,  their  fellowship  in  the  service 
of  man — their  fellowship  in  what  they  call  secular, 
in  what  we  call  sacred  !  So  shall  we  stand 
together  beside  one  cross. 
251 


The  Comfort  to  Physical  Inferiority 

"  There  is  no  king  saved  by  the  multitude  of  an  host ;  a 
mighty  man  is  not  delivered  by  much  strength." — Psa.  xxxiii.  i6. 

The  doctrine  of  modern  life  is  the  survival  of 
the  fittest.  Is  the  psalmist  in  opposition  to  this 
view  ?  No.  He  is  quite  willing  to  admit  that 
the  fittest  survive ;  what  he  says  is  that  their 
fitness  does  not  lie  in  the  physical.  He  says  that 
even  where  the  physical  strength  exists  it  is  not 
the  deepest  ground  of  success.  And  is  he  not 
right  ?  Take  the  simile  in  his  own  mind — the 
sway  of  a  kingdom.  The  greatest  kingdoms  of 
I'this  world  have  been  swayed  by  spiritual  forces. 
'Look  at  the  Papacy  of  early  days.  It  was  the  rule 
of  one  frail  man — without  arms,  without  terri- 
tories, without  embattled  walls,  without  military 
followers,  without  a  right  to  draw  the  sword. 
What  was  the  secret  of  his  power  ?  Why  did 
kings  hold  his  stirrup  and  emperors  court  his 
favour  and  armies  melt  at  his  command  and  rude 
barbarians  bow  to  his  desire?  It  was  because 
men  believed  in  his  holiness — because  they  held 
252 


These  millions  could  overwhelm  us  if  they  were 
mentally  strong.     Theirs  is  the  homage  of  matter  ^^ 


THE  COMFORT  TO  PHYSICAL  INFERIORITY 

him  to  possess  the  Spirit  of  God.  Or,  take  our 
own  Indian  Empire.  That  to  me  is  the  miracle 
of  history — a  small  army  holding  in  leash  the 
milHons  of  a  conquered  land.  What  is  the  power 
by  which  a  little  island  has  bound  a  chain  round 
an  enormous  continent  ?  Is  it  holiness  ?  Alas, 
no !  but  it  is  none  the  less  a  power  of  the  spirit. 

to  mind.  Is  it  not  written  of  the  forces  of  animal  * 
nature,  "A  Httle  child  shall  lead  them."  In  the 
presence  of  the  great  forest  of  India  Britain  is 
physically  but  a  child ;  yet  the  myriad  denizens  of 
the  forest  bend  beneath  her  sway.  They  could 
crush  her  at  a  blow  ;  to  what  do  they  bend  ?  To 
that  which  as  yet  is  to  them  a  mystery — the 
power  of  mind.  The  gigantic  river  has  been 
arrested  by  one  pebble;  the  sweep  of  the  blast  has 
been  diverted  by  the  single  leaf  of  a  tree.  There 
is  no  power  on  earth  so  secularly  strong  as  that  f 
which  sleeps  within  a  human  soul. 

Remember  this,  thou  mother  with  the  delicate 
babe !  Remember  this  when  thou  bendest  with 
sorrow  over  that  cradle  which  seems  to  enshrine 
a  physical  failure !  Eve  christened  her  son  by 
the  name  of  Abel — a  vapour.  The  child  seemed 
so  fragile  as  to  be  but  a  breath ;  and  the  mother 
253 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

viewed  his  future  with  dismay.  Was  she  right  ? 
No  ;  that  little  pigmy  in  the  primitive  cradle  was 
the  most  surviving  man  of  all  the  race — "  he  yet 
speaketh."  Remember  thatf  when  thou  lookest 
upon  the  physical  feebleness  of  thy  babe  !  It 
may  survive  its  strong  brother  Cain  in  the  work 
of  the  world.  Its  cry  may  be  faint ;  but  its  cry  is 
not  its  crown.  I  have  seen  treasures  of  human 
power  hidden  in  earthen  vessels  of  the  poorest 
mould.  I  have  beheld  the  Christmas  gold  glitter 
in  a  manger.  I  have  heard  the  songs  of  Bethlehem 
in  the  midnight  air.  I  have  met  the  Son  of  Man 
amid  the  wants  of  the  wilderness.  I  have  tasted 
the  wine  of  Cana  when  the  world's  wine  had 
ceased  to  flow.  I  have  listened  to  the  aged  Jacob 
striking  the  harp  of  a  poet's  youth.  I  have 
marked  Moses  triumphing  physically  by  prayer 
when  he  was  too  weak  to  hold  up  his  physical 
hands.  I  have  witnessed  Elijah  baffled  in  the 
day  of  his  fire  and  victor  in  the  hour  of  his  nerve- 
lessness.  I  have  perceived  Job  getting  his  answer, 
not  from  the  calm  which  promised  strength,  but 
from  the  whirlwind  which  shattered  it.  O  thou 
that  boldest  in  thine  arms  a  feeble  form,  remember 
that  the  frail  casket  may  enclose  a  king  I 


254 


The  Sanity  of  Paul 

**I  am  not  mad,  most  noble  Festus." — Acts  xxvi.  25. 

Paul  was  a  man  of  singularly  sound  mind. 
What  is  the  test  of  mental  sanity  ?  It  is  the 
balance  of  all  the  powers.  A  man  may  be  a  great 
genius  and  yet  want  perfect  soundness.  So  much 
fire  may  have  passed  into  his  imagination  that 
the  other  phases  of  his  mind  may  have  been  left 
cold.  It  is  not  the  genius  that  is  to  blame ;  it  is 
the  inequality  of  its  distribution.  Fancy  may  be 
aflame  while  judgment  is  in  ashes.  Poetry  may 
have  pinions  while  common-sense  is  stranded. 
Sentiment  may  be  soaring  while  the  business  of 
life  is  prostrated.  The  peculiarity  of  Paul's  genius 
is  that  it  avoided  this  disproportion.  He  was  an 
enthusiast,  but  he  was  an  enthusiast  all  round. 
He  did  not  glow  with  one  side  of  his  nature  and 
pale  with  the  other ;  at  one  and  the  same  moment 
he  kept  a  light  in  every  room.  He  has  a  burning 
imagination — he  figures  the  rising  of  the  dead; 
but  he  does  not  forget  to  legislate  for  the  interests 
of  the   living.     He  has  a  profound  intellect — he 

255 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

reasons  about  eternal  mysteries  ;  but  he  does  not 
forget  to  enforce  the  practice  of  the  hour.  He  has 
a  boundless  faith — he  says  faith  makes  a  man 
righteous;  but  he  forgets  not  that  faith  is  sub- 
ordinate to  love.  He  has  a  flaming  hope — he 
looks  into  the  things  that  are  unseen  ;  but  he 
forgets  not  that  shadows  themselves  are  a  weight 
of  glory.  He  is  devoted  to  human  freedom — he 
says  that  where  God's  Spirit  is,  there  is  liberty ; 
but  he  refuses  to  encourage  a  slave  to  run  away 
from  his  master.  He  is  wonderfully  forgiving — he 
would  like  to  bear  the  sinner's  penalty ;  yet  he 
insists  that  sin  should  be  atoned  for.  He  is  a  man 
of  sacrifice — he  counts  not  his  life  unto  himself 
dear ;  yet  in  the  cold  of  the  Roman  prison  he  asks 
that  an  old  cloak  be  sent  to  him  which  he  left  at 
Troas.  Paul  says  that  God  has  given  him  "a 
sound  mind."  He  might  well  say  that.  I  never 
knew  a  plank  so  evenly  balanced — with  one 
exception.  The  one  exception  is  the  life  of  his 
Master.  That  mind  was  in  him  which  was  also 
in  Christ  Jesus ;  the  length  and  the  breadth  and 
the  height  of  it  were  equal. 

Lord,  make    me,   like   Paul,   a   sharer  in   the 

balanced  mind  of  Jesus !     Thou  art  called  "  the 

Father  of  spirits";  tune  the   notes  of  my  spirit 

into  that  perfect  harmony  which  is  perfect  sanity ! 

256 


THE  SANITY  'OF  PAUL 

It  is  not  less  enthusiasm  I  want ;  it  is  enthusiasm 
about  more  things.  I  would  not  have  the 
mountain  lowered;  I  would  have  the  plain  ele- 
vated. I  would  be  saved  from  one-sidedness,  O 
Lord.  I  remember  that  Thou  saidst  to  Abram, 
**  Look  northward  and  southward  and  eastward 
and  westward."  I,  too,  would  have  that  fourfold 
gaze.  It  is  not  intensity  that  makes  me  nervous ; 
it  is  intensity  in  a  single  direction.  I  persuade 
myself  that  promotion  comes  only  from  the  east ; 
and  when  the  east  is  overclouded  I  wring  my 
hands  in  despair.  Point  me  also  to  the  north  and 
the  south  and  the  west !  Show  me  that  on  Thy 
head  are  many  crowns  I  When  I  am  persecuted 
in  one  city,  let  me  flee  into  another  !  There  are 
those  who  have  lost  their  head  because  they  have 
lost  their  money ;  save  me  from  that  doom  !  Yet 
I  would  not  be  saved  by  ceasing  to  value  money ; 
rather  would  I  learn  that  other  things  besides  are 
valuable.  There  are  minds  that  have  been 
unhinged  by  a  bereavement ;  save  me  from  that 
doom !  Yet  I  would  not  be  saved  by  loving  less 
the  departed;  rather  would  I  remember  unnoticed 
flowers  which  on  my  way  I  have  passed  by.  I 
would  be  cured  by  compensation ;  I  would  be 
healed  by  an  enlarged  heart.  Widen  my  interests, 
and  I  shall  be  calm.     Expand  my  soul,  and  I  shall 

257  K 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

be  sober.  Make  room  in  my  nature,  and  I  shall 
be  unshaken  by  the  storm.  Let  me  see  many 
beauties,  and  I  shall  have  a  balanced  mind. 
Teach  me  how  manifold  is  Thy  grace,  and  I  shall 
never  sink  beneath  a  solitary  cloud.  I  shall  have 
peace  upon  the  sea  when  X  have  the  mind  of 
Jesus. 


258 


The  Patience  of  Christ 

••The  kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ. "—Rev.  i,  9, 

"The  kingdom  and  patience!" — it  sounds  at 
first  as  if  these  two  things  were  at  variance.  Does 
not  a  kingdom,  we  say,  imply  a  sense  of  power ; 
and  is  not  patience  built  upon  uncertainty  ?  Did 
not  Jesus,  even  in  His  darkest  hour,  know  that 
everything  would  yet  be  well  with  Him — that  His 
kingdom  would  come,  that  His  will  would  be  done, 
that  His  name  would  be  glorified ;  was  there  any 
room  for  patience  ?  Yes,  and  it  lay  just  in  the 
thing  which  we  think  excluded  it — certainty.  We 
are  all  wrong  in  this  matter.  We  deem  patience 
arduous  in  proportion  as  we  are  doubtful  of  the 
result.  It  is  exactly  the  reverse — it  is  arduous  in 
proportion  to  the  clearness  of  our  hope.  Let  me 
put  an  imaginary  case.  Suppose  that  to  you  there 
came  a  secret  revelation  from  heaven  regarding 
your  future  destiny  on  earth.  Suppose  it  were 
revealed  to  you,  under  the  condition  of  present 
reticence,  that  in  the  course  of  ten  years  you 
259  R  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

would  be  translated  into  a  position  of  great  wealth 
and  power.  Suppose,  in  addition  to  this,  that 
your  present  state  was  one  of  extreme  lowliness — 
that  you  were  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  that 
everybody  thought  you  a  poor  creature  destitute 
of  mental  resources  and  unable  to  make  your  way 
in  the  world.  I  ask,  What  under  these  circum- 
stances would  be  the  quality  you  most  needed 
because  the  quality  most  difficult  to  acquire  ?  And 
I  answer.  It  would  be  patience.  Here  are  you  in 
the  meantime  an  object  of  contempt  and  pity  to 
the  bystander — the  specimen  of  a  man  that  cannot 
get  on.  Here,  on  the  other  hand,  floating  before 
your  inner  eye,  is  a  vision  of  your  coming  glory — 
a  vision  which,  the  moment  men  see  it,  will  raise 
you  at  once  in  their  sight  to  a  pinnacle  of  admira- 
tion and  make  you  the  idol  of  the  hour.  Would 
not  the  temptation  be  almost  irresistible  to  tell  the 
vision,  to  reveal  the  coming  glory!  Would  not 
the  very  certainty  of  the  vision  add  to  the  strain ! 
If  there  were  any  doubt  about  it  there  would  be  an 
incentive  to  silence  ;  but  to  be  reticent  in  sight  of 
the  rainbow,  to  be  silent  in  the  viewing  of  the 
star,  to  be  humble  in  the  testifying  of  your  heart 
that  the  day  is  sure  to  dawn — that  is  the  perfection 
of  restraint,  that  is  the  climax  of  patience. 

And   that  patience,  O  Son  of  Man,  is  Thine. 
260 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  CHRIST 

Why  do  I  marvel  so  at  the  restraining  of  Thy 
power?  It  is  because  the  thing  restrained  is 
power.  It  is  not  passion,  it  is  not  vexation,  it  is 
not  impotent  rage — it  is  power.  There  is  a 
patience  that  waits  by  night — and  it  is  worthy  of 
all  admiration.  But  Thine  is  a  patience  more 
glorious  still ;  it  is  a  patience  that  waits  by  day. 
It  is  a  great  thing  to  bear  the  stroke  of  injustice 
when  I  am  under  the  shadow ;  but  to  bear  it  when 
I  am  in  the  sunshine  is  greater  still.  It  is  not  the 
cloudedness  of  Thy  vision  that  makes  Thy  patience 
with  me  so  wonderful ;  it  is  its  clearness.  There 
are  masters  who  are  gentle  with  their  pupils 
because  they  themselves  are  in  the  mist.  But 
Thou  art  merciful  on  the  mount,  O  Christ ;  Thou 
art  patient  amid  the  kingdom.  Thou  seest  the 
flower ;  yet  Thou  bearest  my  frost.  Thou  be- 
holdest  the  best  robe ;  yet  Thou  pardonest  my 
preference  for  rags.  Thou  gazest  on  purity ;  yet 
Thou  hast  compassion  on  my  stagnant  pool. 
Thou  hearest  the  song  of  jubilee ;  yet  Thou 
sufferest  my  strains  of  jarring.  Thine  is  the  joy  of 
sympathy;  yet  Thou  hast  not  consumed  the  selfish. 
Thine  is  the  heaven  of  rest ;  yet  Thou  hast  not 
destroyed  the  rebellious.  Thine  is  the  beauty  of 
holiness ;  yet  Thou  hast  spared  the  corrupt  heart. 
Thine  is  the  luxury  of  lavishing ;  yet  Thou  hast 
261 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

forborne  to  annihilate  the  loveless.  Thine  is  the 
pearl  of  great  price;  yet  Thou  restrainest  Thy 
hand  from  the  worshipper  of  a  plaything.  O 
Lord,  our  Lord,  it  is  Thy  kingdom  that  makes 
Thy  patience  grand. 


25a 


The  Humility  that  is  Not  Beautiful 

"  Let  no  man  beguile  you  by  a  voluntary  humility." — Col.  ii.  i8 

Is  not  this  a  strange  precept  ?  I  thought  the 
Bible  wanted  us  all  to  be  humble.  I  thought 
Paul  specially  wanted  us  to  realise  that  we  are  all 
poor  creatures.  Undoubtedly;  but  when  a  man 
becomes  subject  to  **  voluntary  humility  "  he  does 
not  feel  himself  a  poor  creature  at  all.  Voluntary 
humility  is  want  of  aspiration ;  it  is  the  desire  to 
be  no  better.  True  humility  is  not  voluntar^\ 
There  is  always  a  pain  in  it.  When  a  man  beats 
on  his  breast  and  cries  "Unclean!"  he  is  in  a 
hopeful  moral  state ;  but  he  is  so  precisely  because 
he  is  not  satisfied  with  the  lowliness  he  confesses. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  the  demoniacs  cry  to 
Jesus,  "  Art  Thou  come  to  torment  us  before  the 
time  !  "  the  sting  of  the  situation  is  just  the  fact 
that  the  man  himself  is  not  stung  by  it.  He  is 
quite  content  to  be  what  he  is.  His  is  a  voluntary 
humility.  He  knows  quite  well  that  his  soul 
consists  of  only  a  room  and  kitchen  ;  but  he  feels 
263 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

that  to  enlarge  it  into  a  palace  would  triple  his 
troubles  and  multiply  his  expenses.  He  can  move 
more  easily  about  in  this  narrow  environment,  can 
find  things  closer  to  his  hand.  He  prefers  his 
small  garden  to  the  courts  of  the  Lord ;  it  costs 
less,  it  has  fewer  cares.  He  would  rather  be  in 
Paris  than  in  Paradise.  The  thought  of  heaven 
adds  a  new  terror  to  death.  He  resents  the  intro- 
duction of  sacred  subjects.  He  resents  all  reports 
of  spiritual  manifestation.  He  wants  to  think 
of  heaven  as  a  vague  place,  a  far-off  place,  a  place 
in  the  mist.  His  comfort  is  his  uncertainty  about 
it.  If  he  heard  of  a  messenger  coming  from  the 
silent  land,  he  would  have  him  stopped.  He  is 
spiritually  almost  in  the  position  of  a  Little 
Englander.  He  would  not  exactly  tell  his  soul  to 
give  up  its  colonies  beyond  the  sea,  but  he  would 
say :  "  Never  think  about  your  colonies ;  never 
dream  of  them  ;  keep  within  the  humble  limits  of 
your  own  home ;  live  by  the  day  and  lay  not  up 
your  treasures  beyond  the  needs  of  the  hour!" 

My  soul,  there  is  a  false  contentment  which  is 
not  made  for  thee.  Humility  is  good,  but  not  a 
voluntary  humility.  It  is  well  thou  shouldst 
know  thyself  to  be  in  the  valley,  but  it  is  not  well 
thou  shouldst  love  to  be  there.  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered the  difference  between  a  repentant  and 
264 


THE  HUMILITY  THAT  IS  NOT  BEAUTIFUL 

an  unrepentant  sinner  ?  It  lies  in  a  very  narrow 
line — too  narrow  for  even  a  microscope  to  see.  At 
the  moment  of  thy  repentance  thou  art  side  by 
side  in  the  same  valley  with  the  soul  that  is  dead 
in  sin.  The  lowliness  is  quite  equal.  But  the 
unequal  thing  is  the  degree  of  contentment.  The 
dead  soul  is  voluntarily  humble :  thou  art  humble 
under  protest.  The  dead  soul  is  satisfied  with  its 
miry  clay ;  thou  art  crying  for  a  couch  of  down. 
The  dead  soul  is  saying,  "  What  a  sweet  repose  !" 
thou  art  singing,  "  O  for  the  wings  of  a  dove,  that 
I  might  fly  away  and  be  at  rest!  "  The  dead  soul 
is  happy  in  its  hell ;  thou  hast  lifted  up  thine  eyes 
in  torment.  The  dead  soul  sees  no  mountain ; 
thou  art  gazing  on  the  hills.  The  dead  soul  is  at 
home  in  death — it  has  no  discomfort  in  the 
garment;  thou  hast  the  sense  of  numbness,  the 
feeling  of  torpor,  the  stiffness  of  the  limb,  the 
weakness  of  the  arm,  the  inertness  of  the  sinew. 
The  dead  soul  does  not  wish  the  organ  to  play,  for 
it  loves  not  music ;  thou  art  waiting  for  the  notes 
that  never  come.  It  is  a  thought  that  makes  the 
difference  between  him  and  thee;  reverence  thy 
thoughts,  O  my  soul  1 


265 


Spiritual  Chloroform 

"Translated  that  he  should  not  see  death."— Heb.  xi.  5. 

The  translation  of  the  soul  may  precede  the 
death  of  the  body.  It  was  predicted  of  the  aged 
Simeon  that  "  he  should  not  see  death  before  he 
had  seen  the  Lord's  Christ " ;  and  our  Lord  Him- 
self declares  '*  there  are  some  standing  here  who 
shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the  Kingdom 
of  God."  The  idea  was  not  that  old  Simeon 
should  never  die,  nor  that  some  of  Christ's 
disciples  should  escape  death.  You  will  best 
arrive  at  the  thought  by  an  analogy.  Imagine 
that  twenty  years  before  the  discovery  of  chloro- 
form a  medical  man  had  thus  addressed  a  scientific 
assembly  :  **  There  are  some  now  before  me  who 
will  not  need  to  undergo  any  physical  operation 
until  a  physical  operation  shall  become  a  thing 
without  pain."  That  would  be  an  exact  parallel 
to  the  New  Testament  promise — only  it  would  be 
in  the  sphere  of  the  body,  not  of  the  soul.  It 
would  be  the  prophecy  of  a  time  coming  when  the 
266 


SPIRITUAL  CHLOROFORM 

body  should  be  raised  above  the  susceptibility  to 
pain,  "  translated  that  it  should  not  see  the 
coming  operation."  The  operation  would  come 
all  the  same,  but  it  would  come  unknown  to  the 
recipient.  Such  is  the  thought  applied  to  death. 
It  is  the  promise  of  a  spiritual  chloroform.  For 
there  is  a  spiritual  chloroform.  It  frees  the  soul 
from  pain  in  the  opposite  way  to  that  in  which 
the  physical  remedy  frees  the  body  from  pain. 
The  physical  chloroform  acts  by  making  the  man 
unconscious.  But  the  spiritual  chloroform  works 
by  creating  in  the  man  a  new  consciousness.  I 
am  made  oblivious  of  my  suffering,  not  by  dark- 
ness, but  by  light.  If  you  are  carried  beside  a 
precipice,  there  are  two  ways  in  which  it  may  be 
hid  from  you ;  you  may  shut  your  eyes,  or  you 
may  fix  your  eyes  on  a  point  in  the  heavens.  This 
latter  is  God's  chloroform  for  the  hour  of  death. 
He  does  not  bid  us  shut  our  eyes ;  He  bids  us  lift 
our  eyes.  He  does  not  send  us  to  sleep;  He 
wakes  us  to  a  new  impulse.  He  does  not  still  our 
fear  of  lethargy ;  He  stills  it  by  excitement — by 
the  sight  of  a  coming  joy.  He  eclipses  the  cloud 
by  a  star;  He  deadens  the  pain  by  a  pleasure;  He 
cheers  the  silence  by  a  song  ;  He  hides  the  valley 
by  the  image  of  coming  wings  on  which  we  shall 
mount  as  eagles  into  heights  afar. 
267 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Lord,  send  me  the  Divine  anaesthetic  for  the 
parting  hour !  I  would  not  conquer  the  fear  of 
death  by  somnolence,  but  rather  by  a  new  vivacity. 
It  is  more  life  and  fuller  that  I  want.  There  is 
a  sleep,  a  freedom  from  care,  which  Thou  givest 
to  Thy  beloved ;  but  it  comes  not  through  lullaby, 
but  through  love.     Be  this  my  casting  out  of  fear, 

0  Lord  !  Translate  my  soul  before  death  !  Place 
me  on  the  summit  of  Pisgah  ere  I  reach  the 
valley  of  Moab  !  Show  me  the  Promised  Land 
ere  I  touch  the  banks  of  Jordan  !  Let  the  dove 
precede  the  desert !  Let  the  crown  precede  the 
cross  !  Let  the  guest-chamber  precede  Geth- 
semane  !  Let  the  transfiguration  precede  the 
travail  !     Keep  me  not  waiting  for  the  grapes  till 

1  enter  Canaan  ;  send  the  clusters  into  my  wilder- 
ness !  Keep  me  not  waiting  for  the  daybreak  to 
end  the  struggle  with  death's  angel !  Send  the 
daybreak  first  ;  arm  me  by  joy ;  nerve  me  by 
light !  Let  me  not  halt  on  the  thigh  till  I  have 
wings  in  the  spirit  !  May  I  not  grow  old  in  body 
till  I  have  taken  the  Child-Christ  into  my  soul  ! 
Then  shall  I  pass  through  the  fiery  furnace  and 
feel  no  pain  ;  for  the  light  of  Thy  presence  shall 
blind  me  to  the  shadows,  and  the  music  of  Thy 
voice  shall  blunt  me  to  the  storm. 


268 


The  Sphere  Not  Prohibited 

"  When  He  had  called  all  the  people  unto  Him,  He  said  unto 
them,  There  is  nothing  from  without  a  man  that  can  defile  him." 
— Mark  vii.  14,  15. 

It  is  not  often  that  Jesus  "  calls  the  people 
unto  Him  "  for  the  purpose  of  giving  an  address. 
He  commonly  finds  the  people  already  gathered, 
and  the  address  is  a  matter  of  accident.  But  here 
is  a  solemn  exception.  I  say,  solemn.  If  Christ 
called  the  people  to  give  them  a  message,  He 
must  have  thought  it  a  very  important  message. 
And  so  it  is.  I  have  often  figured  to  myself  a 
strange  imagining.  I  have  thought,  "What  an 
advantage  it  would  be  if  an  angel  from  heaven 
were  to  walk  through  our  streets,  and  were  to 
write  on  the  door  of  each  place  of  resort  an 
inscription  of  its  character  !  "  Here  is  an  inscrip- 
tion given,  not  for  each  door,  but  for  the  whole 
street — a  sweeping  inscription  which  covers 
everything :  "  Nothing  from  without  can  defile 
a  man."  It  is  the  sweepingness  that  startles 
us.  "  Nothing  from  without."  What ! — nothuig  ? 
269 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

Not  the  theatre,  not  the  opera,  not  the  concert- 
room,  not  the  public  dancing-hall  ?  No — not  in 
so  far  as  these  are  things  outside.  These  build- 
ings are  all  right  until  they  are  painted — and  it 
is  the  soul  that  paints  them.  All  the  tarnish  they 
ever  get  is  from  the  brush  of  the  soul.  You  go 
to  walk  on  a  Sunday  because  other  people  are  at 
church ;  you  will  show  them  how  you  are  emanci- 
pated from  superstition.  The  walk  makes  you 
feel  atheistic,  reckless,  disdainful  of  sacred  things. 
Have  you  got  harm,  then,  from  the  outside  land- 
scape ?  No,  it  is  the  landscape  has  got  harm 
from  you.  Why  did  you  go  out  with  the  belief 
that  your  Sunday  walk  was  prohibited!  It  was 
that  belief  which  poisoned  the  whole  air.  You 
thought  you  were  doing  something  forbidden  ;  and 
the  trees  of  the  garden  refused  to  meet  your  eye. 
The  flowers  had  no  bloom ;  the  fields  had  no 
fragrance ;  the  leaves  had  no  freshness ;  the  birds 
had  no  music ;  the  breezes  had  no  quickening — 
your  walk  was  spoiled  by  your  soul.  If  you  had 
only  made  your  walk  a  worship,  if  you  had  gone, 
not  to  repel  man  but  to  meet  God,  the  outside 
would  have  smiled  upon  you.  The  roses  would 
have  been  radiant;  the  grass  would  have  been 
green  ;  the  thrush  would  have  been  thrilling ;  the 
woods  would  have  waved  their  welcome.  The 
270 


THE  SPHEREN  OT  PROHIBITED 

soul  that  feels  God's  presence  in  the  garden  will 
be  hurt  by  no  plant  of  Eden. 

My  brother,  art  thou  deploring  thy  worldly 
surroundings  ?  I  have  heard  thee  lamenting  the 
gaiety  of  thine  environment.  I  have  heard  thee 
say :  *'  I  have  been  brought  up  in  a  vortex  of 
fashion,  in  a  whirl  of  social  engagements,  in  a 
round  of  outward  pleasures;  where  have  I  had 
space  for  Christ  ?  "  Just  there — in  the  very  heart 
of  these  outward  pleasures.  Why  does  Christ 
say  that  these  cannot  defile  a  man  ?  Because 
there  is  room  for  His  cross  in  them.  Thou  canst 
plant  His  cross  in  every  one  of  them.  Did  not 
Martha  serve  at  her  own  feast — forget  to  help 
herself  in  the  joy  of  helping  others !  Where 
canst  thou  better  take  an  inferior  seat  than  in  the 
social  hour  !  Is  there  not  room  for  sacrifice  then  ! 
Then  is  the  temptation  to  overshadow  thy  neigh- 
bour ;  thou  shalt  resist  it  in  Christ.  Then  is  the 
temptation  to  absorb  the  interest ;  thou  shalt 
conquer  it  in  Christ.  Then  is  the  temptation  to 
spread  a  slander;  thou  shalt  kill  it  in  Christ. 
Then  is  the  temptation  to  think  of  thine  own 
superiority;  thou  shalt  crucify  it  in  Christ.  Then 
is  the  temptation  of  the  flesh  to  override  the 
spirit;  thou  shalt  restrain  it  in  Christ.  Then  is 
the  temptation  to  exceed  in  the  flowing  bowl; 
271 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

thou  shalt  quench  it  in  Christ.  Bring  Christ  to 
thy  feast,  my  brother  !  Invite  Him  to  thy  board, 
as  Matthew  did !  Seat  Him  at  thy  table,  as 
Martha  did  !  Consult  Him  on  thy  courses,  as  the 
host  of  Cana  did !  Send  Him  not  into  the  wilder- 
ness !  Seek  Him  not  in  thy  fasting  hour  !  Go 
not  out  to  meet  Him  among  the  tombs !  Thou 
shalt  find  most  room  for  Him  where  the  crowds 
gather,  where  the  joy-bells  ring,  where  life's  roses 
lie.  There  is  no  place  for  His  cross  like  the  field 
of  the  world. 


272 


The  Advantage  of  an  Indirect  Aim 

"  A  certain  man  drew  a  bow  at  a  venture,  and  smote  the  king 
of  Israel."— II.  Chron.  xviii.  33. 

The  story  connected  with  this  passage  is  a  very 
suggestive  one.    Ahab,  king  of  Israel,  was  regarded 
by  the  righteous  as  the  enemy  of  God,  and  by  all 
classes  as  the  enemy  of  man.     Elaborate  plans 
were  laid  to  put  down  his  influence.     These  all 
failed.      Every  effort    to  arrest  his  baleful  hand 
proved  abortive.     A  whole  army  tried  it.     They 
directed  all  their  arrows  toward  the  one   man; 
but  they  all  missed  him.     At  last  a  strange  thing 
happened.     An  obscure  soldier  in  that  army  was 
trifling  with  his  time— shooting  an  arrow  to  amuse 
himself.     The  trifle  became  a  tragedy.      The  shot 
meant  for  the  air  struck  the  enemy  of  righteous- 
ness  ;  he  fell,  and  died.     The  event  came  from  a 
hand  that  was  not  seeking  it,  from  an  act  that  was 
not  designing  it.     It  is  no  uncommon  experience. 
How  often  you  and  I  get  without  effort  a  thing 
for  whose  acquisition   we  have  striven  long  and 
273  s 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

vainly  !  It  seems  at  the  last  to  come  to  our  very 
door.  You  remember  a  name  when  you  have 
ceased  to  search  for  it,  when  you  have  begun  to 
think  of  something  else.  You  exert  an  influence 
when  you  have  given  up  trying  to  do  so,  when  you 
have  left  your  friend  severely  alone.  I  do  not 
think  anxiety  to  achieve  an  end  is  favourable  to 
its  achievement.  I  am  quite  sure  that  all  anxiety 
about  a  merely  personal  aim  diverts  the  arrow  from 
the  goal.  When  God  promised  Abraham  a  great 
kingdom  He  added,  "  In  thee  shall  all  families  of 
the  earth  be  blessed."  He  was  to  get  the  former 
by  shooting  at  the  latter.  I  have  never  known  a 
man  to  win  physical  success  by  making  physical 
success  the  direct  object  of  his  aim.  The  mark  of 
the  worldly  prize  is  hit  by  aiming  at  something 
different.  David  sang  to  the  woods  ere  he  was 
overheard  by  kings.  The  broken  box  of  ointment 
filled  with  its  fragrance  the  house  of  humanity ;  yet 
it  was  meant  but  for  one  head.  The  arrow  that 
strikes  the  mark  of  eternal  fame  is  the  arrow  that 
aims  at  the  welfare  of  the  hour. 

Young  man,  beware  of  thine  aim  in  life  !  I  have 
seen  books  written  in  thy  behalf  with  such  titles 
as  these :  "  How  to  Get  On,"  "  How  to  Succeed 
in  the  World."  Send  not  thine  arrow  toward  any 
such  goal !  Success  comes  by  seeking  other  things. 

274 


THE  ADVANTAGE  OF  AN  INDIRECT  AIM 

Men  tell  thee  that  industry  promotes  wealth.  So 
it  does ;  but  I  would  have  thee  to  be  industrious 
on  other  grounds  than  that.  I  would  have  thee 
labour  for  love — for  the  help  of  those  around  thee. 
Men  tell  thee  that  to  win  friends  will  open  for  thee 
the  doors  of  life.  So  it  will ;  but  not  for  this  would 
I  have  thee  bend  thy  bow.  I  would  have  thee  win 
friends  because  friendship  is  sweet — sweet  though 
the  doors  be  shut,  sweet  though  the  fountains  be 
sealed.  Men  tell  thee  that  the  record  of  a  good 
life  will  be  a  testimonial  to  forward  thine  interests. 
So  it  will ;  but  I  would  not  have  thee  aim  at  the 
casket  instead  of  the  gold.  Goodness  has  often  a 
dowry ;  but  the  dowry  adds  not  to  her  beauty. 
Put  not  aught  before  her  beauty  !  Doubtless  her 
wings  can  raise  thee  to  a  temporal  height ;  but  the 
view  from  the  height  can  never  be  so  beautiful  as 
the  wings.  Thine  arrow  may  strike  the  temporal 
fruit  and  bring  it  down ;  but  let  it  strike  by 
accident !  Aim  not  at  the  fruit ;  aim  at  the  leaf 
and  the  flower  !  Seek  the  Kingdom  of  God  and 
its  righteousness,  and  there  will  fall  into  thy  bosom 
other  apples  as  well.  Seek  purity,  and  there  will 
come  peace.  Seek  friendship,  and  there  will  come 
fortune.  Seek  goodness,  and  there  will  come  glory. 
Seek  sobriety,  and  there  will  come  strength. 
Seek  wisdom,  and  there  will  come  wealth.  Seek 
275  s  2 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

reflection,  and  there  will  come  repute.  Seek 
benevolence,  and  there  will  come  blessing.  Seek 
Christ,  and  there  will  come  the  cup  of  joy.  When 
the  bow  shoots  at  an  unselfish  venture  it  will  bring 
to  thy  feet  a  personal  gain. 


276 


The  Mystery  of  Christ^s  Fame 

"  He  could  not  be  hid." — Mark  vii.  24. 

There  is  a  great  peculiarity  about  the  fame  of 
Jesus :  it  came  to  Him  through  shut  doors.  For 
one  thing,  His  own  will  shut  the  door  against  it. 
He  wanted  to  be  hid — to  do  good  by  stealth  and 
escape  the  praise  of  it ;  He  was  afraid  lest  Divine 
majesty  should  crush  human  love.  When  He 
performed  a  benevolent  action  He  charged  His 
followers  that  they  should  not  make  it  known  ; 
when  He  was  accidentally  revealed  in  glor}^  He 
said,  **  Tell  the  vision  to  no  man  until  the  Son  of 
Man  be  risen " — removed  from  human  sight. 
The  men  who  win  fame  in  this  world  are  usually 
the  men  who  strive  for  it.  But  the  peculiarity  of 
Jesus  is  that  worldly  fame  beset  Him  when  He 
was  striving  to  avoid  it.  That  is  the  paradox 
which  Paul  points  out  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Philippians.  He  says  that  God  gave  Him  a 
name  that  is  above  every  name  at  the  very  time 
when  He  was  performing  an  act  of  self-burial — 
when  He  was  emptying  Himself,  assuming  the 
form  of  a  servant,  wearing  the  fashion  of  human 
poverty,  taking  a  lowly  place,  carrying  the  burden 
of  the  cross,  closing  His  career  by  a  premature 
277 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

death.  And  then,  every  natural  circumstance  in 
the  Hfe  of  Jesus  was  unfavourable  to  His  fame. 
His  birth  was  humble,  His  surroundings  poor, 
His  home  isolated,  His  youth  toihng,  His  brothers 
adverse,  His  era  prosaic.  His  country  a  Roman 
province.  His  auditors  unlettered.  His  enemies 
influential,  His  ideal  unshared.  Is  anything  con- 
ceivable more  opposed  to  fame !  And  yet,  in 
spite  of  all,  "  He  could  not  be  hid."  He  has 
broken  through  the  thickest  cloud  in  the  universe 
— the  cloud  of  social  obscurity.  Truly  was  it 
written,  **At  midnight  there  was  a  cry  heard, 
*  Behold,  the  bridegroom  cometh  ! '  "  His  sun- 
shine was  unheralded  by  dawn  ;  it  flashed  from  a 
rayless  sky.  It  was  by  night  that  Bethlehem's 
plains  were  flooded  with  His  glory.  His  light 
shone  from  darkness,  and  the  darkness  compre- 
hended it  not — never  has  comprehended  it.  It 
has  been  the  mystery  of  mysteries  how  a  bad 
world  has  glorified  a  great  soul.  If  there  had  been 
physical  ornaments  round  that  soul,  we  could  have 
understood  it ;  but  it  passes  human  knowledge  to 
,  explain  how  in  a  field  consecrated  to  materialism 
'  a  life  of  spiritual  beauty  "  could  not  be  hid." 

My  soul,  thou  art  in  presence   to-day  of   the 
same  mystery.     Everything  around  thee  is  fitted 
to   hide  Jesus.      All   the   forces   of    the    Roman 
278 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  CHRISTS  FAME 

Empire  are  reigning  yet.  The  nations  are  held 
together  by  an  iron  chain.  The  lands  are  bounded 
by  battalions  ;  the  seas  are  fenced  by  fleets ;  the 
crowds  are  pulsating  with  passions  ;  the  merchants 
are  greedy  of  gold ;  the  learned  are  steeped  in 
scepticism ;  the  fashionable  are  dizzy  with  the 
dance  ;  the  weighted  are  victims  of  the  vine  ; 
the  successful  are  cowards  for  the  cross.  Yet  at 
this  moment  Christ  is  King  of  Kings — crowned 
by  the  very  lives  that  are  unworthy  of  Him. 
Hast  thou  considered  these  words,  "  Behold  He 
Cometh  with  clouds  !  " — spite  of  clouds.  They  are 
as  true  now  as  they  were  on  the  plains  of  Beth- 
lehem. Canst  thou  explain  His  empire !  Seest 
thou  not  that  now,  as  then,  the  deformed  have 
crowned  the  beautiful !  It  is  still  the  Roman 
that  is  plaiting  His  wreath  to-day.  Matter  brings 
a  rose  to  spirit.  Force  puts  a  flower  on  gentle- 
ness. Selfishness  pours  a  libation  on  charity. 
Covetousness  sends  a  greeting  to  sacrifice.  War 
hails  the  advent  of  peace.  Corruption  bends  at 
the  shrine  of  purity.  Retribution  applauds  the 
dawn  of  mercy.  Pleasure  lays  a  diadem  on  the 
cross.  The  tyrant  bows  his  head  to  the  emanci- 
pator of  the  slave.  Whence  this  mystery  that  is 
manifested  to  thy  sight !  Truly  the  miracle  of 
the  Advent  is  living  still ! 

279 


Man  the  Vicegerent  of  God 

"  God  hath  given  unto  us  the  ministry  of  reconciliation.'*— 
II.  Cor.  v.  i8. 

We  often  ask  the  question,  Why  does  God 
permit  the  continuance  of  so  much  sin  in  the 
world?  The  district  visitor  going  her  rounds 
amid  scenes  of  moral  misery,  the  philanthropist 
threading  his  way  through  paths  of  deep  pollution, 
the  home  missionary  coming  into  contact  with 
forms  of  life  that  would  make  the  angels  weep — 
all  put  the  question  to  their  heart,  Why  does  not 
God  interfere  ?  And  to  each  there  ought  to  be 
one  answer:  He  does  interfere.  He  is  at  this 
moment  interfering ;  He  is  interfering  through  you. 
This  is  exactly  what  Paul  says  :  "  God  has  given 
unto  us  the  ministry  of  reconciliation."  This  is  a 
thing  we  seldom  think  of  in  our  pessimistic 
moments.  We  often  exclaim  at  the  sight  of 
flagrant  iniquity,  "  I  wish  I  were  in  God's  place 
for  one  day  !  "  Little  do  we  deem  that  this  is 
exactly  what  God  wishes  too.  God  has  asked  us 
280 


MAN  THE  VICEGERENT  OF  GOD 

to  stand  in  His  place,  not  for  one  day,  but  for 
many  days.  He  has  asked  us  to  take  up  His 
burden — the  burden  of  human  sin.  He  has  asked 
us  to  interfere  for  Him,  to  act  for  Him,  to  strive 
for  Him,  to  love  for  Him.  God's  government  is  a 
vicarious  government.  He  has  never  at  any  time 
ruled  by  His  own  hand.  At  first  He  made  His 
angels  ministering  spirits;  then  He  added  the 
ministry  of  His  Son  ;  now  He  invites  you  and  me 
to  join  the  league  of  pity.  Why  has  He  made  His 
government  a  vicarious  government  ?  I  have 
heard  men  object  to  the  belief  in  guardian  angels 
on  the  ground  that  God  needs  no  help.  Neither 
does  He ;  but  the  angels  do,  you  and  I  do.  It  is 
no  relief  to  the  Father  that  other  hands  are  lifted 
to  do  His  work;  but  it  is  a  vast  benefit  to  the 
**  other  hands."  It  is  not  for  His  sake  that  God 
makes  you  His  fellow-labourer  ;  it  is  for  your  own. 
He  has  put  the  reins  of  the  moral  world  into  your 
hands — not  because  the  steeds  are  unmanageable, 
but  because  you  need  training  as  a  charioteer. 
When  you  go  forth  to  dispense  your  charities 
among  the  destitute,  never  forget  that  you  are 
yourself  the  largest  beneficiary.  Never  forget  that 
at  the  very  moment  when  you  lavish  your  gifts  you 
are  the  man  who  in  God's  sight  is  receiving  the 
costliest  boon.  Never  forget  that  in  the  hour  and 
281 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

the  power  of  sacrifice  you  are  obtaining  a  greater 
privilege  than  ever  you  bestow. 

Lord,  put  me  in  Thy  place  for  one  day,  Thy 
moral  place,  the  place  where  Thy  heart  dwelleth. 
Commit  to  me  Thy  ministry  of  reconciliation ! 
Let  me  live  for  one  hour  in  Thine  experience ! 
Let  me  feel  for  one  moment  Thy  power  of  loving, 
Thy  strength  of  sympathising!  Men  often  pray 
that  they  may  enter  into  Thy  joy ;  I  think  I  should 
first  like  to  enter  into  Thy  pain.  I  should  like  to 
feel  Thy  grief  for  man's  grovelling.  Thy  sorrow  for 
man's  selfishness,  Thy  pity  for  man's  poverty.  Thy 
tears  for  man's  temptation.  The  Church  urges 
me  to  pray  to  Thee  for  the  sinner  ;  Thou  biddest 
me  pray  to  the  sinner  for  Thee ;  Thou  tellest  a 
Paul  to  cry,  *'  We  beseech  you  in  Christ's  stead, 
Be  ye  reconciled  to  God  !  "  Put  Thy  prayer  to 
the  sinner  in  my  heart,  O  Lord  ;  let  me  stand  at 
his  door  and  knock  !  Let  me  repeat  in  miniature 
Thy  Gospel  mission  !  Let  me  put  on  in  sympathy 
my  brother's  tattered  robe  !  Not  from  the  height 
of  heaven  let  me  speak  to  him  !  Let  me  go  down 
to  meet  him  in  his  own  valley !  Let  me  stand  on 
the  steps  of  his  humiliation !  Let  me  give  him 
my  hand  in  his  heaviness  !  Let  me  claim  my 
brotherhood  in  his  brokenness !  Let  me  proffer 
my  fellowship  in  his  fallenness !     Let  me  call  him 

382 


MAN  THE  VICEGERENT  OF  GOD 

comrade  in  his  condemnation !  Let  my  cheer 
precede  chastisement,  my  smile  precede  solemnity, 
my  comfort  precede  counsel !  Let  me  bring  him 
to  the  Mount  before  I  point  him  to  the  Cross! 
So  shall  I  repeat  Thy  work  of  reconciliation. 


883 


The  Calamity  that  Hurts  Not 

"  Daniel  was  taken  up  out  of  the  den,  and  no  manner  of  hurt 
was  found  upon  him,  because  he  believed  in  his  God." — 
Dan.  VI.  23. 

It  is  not  enough  for  a  man  to  be  taken  out  of 
his  den.  When  he  has  been  raised  from  his 
calamity  the  question  remains,  Has  it  hurt  him  ? 
It  seems  a  small  thing  to  record  of  Daniel  that 
after  his  life  had  been  preserved  from  the  lions 
"  no  manner  of  hurt  was  found  upon  him."  But 
in  truth  the  great  fear  in  such  cases  is  just  their 
after-effects.  Calamity  has  not  always  a  good 
influence  upon  a  man.  It  changes  many  a  soul 
for  the  worse.  There  are  hundreds  who  after  their 
liberation  from  the  den  of  lions  live  as  if  they  were 
still  in  the  den.  There  are  men  who  have  risen 
to  opulence  after  a  hard  fight  with  poverty  and 
who  never  forget  their  early  scars.  They  resent 
the  years  that  the  locusts  have  eaten.  They  pre- 
serve a  demeanour  of  frigidness,  of  sourness,  of 
cynicism  towards  all  the  events  of  life  ;  they  damp 
the  enthusiasm  of  those  who  are  entering  in.  It 
284 


THE  CALAMITY  THAT  HURTS  NOT 

is  a  great  thing  if  a  man  can  emerge  from  the  den 
not  only  sound  in  body  but  unharmed  in  mind. 
What  enabled  Daniel  to  come  forth  mentally 
whole  ?  The  passage  states  the  reason  expHcitly 
— "  He  believed  in  his  God."  There  it  is  !  The 
mental  effects  of  calamity  can  only  be  conquered 
by  a  mental  attitude.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to 
suppose  that  we  require  trust  in  God  merely  for 
the  future ;  we  need  it  as  much  for  the  past.  We 
think  of  Daniel  as  trusting  in  God  before  he  was 
thrown  in ;  he  required  an  equal  faith  after  he  had 
come  out.  We  doubt,  not  only  in  the  hour  of 
danger,  but  in  the  hour  of  retrospect.  Faith  may 
waver  over  the  question.  What  if  this  befall  me  ? 
But  it  can  also  waver  over  the  question.  Why  has 
this  befallen  me  ?  If  I  am  to  be  free  from  mental 
gloom,  I  must  see  a  bow  in  the  cloud  of  yesterday 
as  well  as  in  the  cloud  of  to-morrow.  God  must 
justify  to  my  soul  the  shadows  of  last  night. 
Nothing  else  will  obliterate  my  inward  scars; 
nothing  else  will  enable  me  to  come  forth  from 
the  den  unhurt. 

Shine  on  my  yesterday,  O  Lord,  shine  on  my 
yesterday !  Throw  back  Thy  radiant  glory  upon 
the  days  that  have  been  !  I  can  say,  with  one  of 
Thy  children,  "  I  do  not  ask  to  see  the  distant 
scene  "  ;  but  I  should  like  a  glimpse  of  the  scene 
285 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

through  which  I  have  travelled.  It  is  something 
to  be  able  to  say,  "  I  fear  no  future  foe  "  ;  but  it  is 
not  all.  I  may  be  fearless  for  the  future,  and  yet 
a  coward  for  the  days  gone  by.  I  may  be  looking 
forward  to  another  world  just  because  I  have  had 
a  rose  withered  in  this.  Not  thus  would  I  meet 
Thee,  O  my  God.  I  would  not  come  to  Thee  from 
my  den  of  lions  with  a  heart  bruised  and  maimed. 
I  would  conquer  my  past  as  well  as  my  future.  I 
would  be  satisfied  with  the  travail  of  my  soul.  I 
would  approve  my  six  days  of  seeming  chaos. 
I  would  discover  that  the  evenings  have  blended 
with  the  mornings  to  make  one  day.  It  is  not 
enough  that  Thou  hast  prepared  an  ark  for  the 
flood ;  I  must  know  for  what  Thou  hast  prepared 
the  flood  itself.  Its  waters  may  still  roll  over  me 
after  they  are  gone ;  they  may  have  drowned  my 
heart  though  they  have  spared  my  life.  Forbid  it, 
Lord !  Illumine  my  crosses  of  the  past !  Shine 
on  the  dark  places  of  my  vanished  years !  Light 
up  the  mystery  of  my  adverse  hours  !  Unveil  the 
secret  of  my  moments  in  the  valley !  Let  me  see 
the  beauty  of  Marah's  bitterness!  Let  me  hear 
the  music  of  Bethany's  mourning !  Let  me  learn 
the  comfort  of  Calvary's  pain !  I  shall  never  be 
free  from  hurt  till  Thou  hast  lighted  up  the  den. 


286 


The  Veiling  from  Man  of  Divine  Energy 

*'  He  commanded  the  people  to  sit  down,  and  He  took  the 
seven  loaves,  and  gave  to  His  disciples  to  set  before  them." — 
Mark  viii.  6. 

Such  was  Christ's  method  of  distributing  the 
bread  among  a  starving  multitude.  From  a 
physical  point  of  view  it  must  have  been  highly 
satisfactory  to  them — they  were  hungry.  But 
from  a  religious  point  of  view  it  was  perhaps  a 
little  disconcerting.  I  think  they  would  have 
liked  better  to  have  been  served  by  His  own  hand. 
From  a  Christian  standpoint  one  is  disposed  to 
ask,  If  Jesus  had  "  compassion  on  the  multitude," 
why  did  He  consult  the  disciples  at  all  ?  They 
certainly  had  very  little  compassion  ;  they  did  all 
they  could  to  damp  His  benevolence.  Why 
make  use  of  such  miserable  agents,  such  retarding 
agents  ?  These  could  only  carry  His  bequest  in 
wagons;  He  could  have  borne  it  Himself  on 
wings.  Why  did  He  not  use  the  wings?  Why 
commit  an  errand  so  momentous  into  hands  so 
sluggish  when  His  own  hand  was  burning  to  fulfil 
287 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

the  deed?  It  was  because,  great  as  was  His 
compassion  for  the  multitude,  He  had  a  compas- 
sion greater  still  for  His  own  disciples.  It  was 
sad  the  multitude  should  be  hungry ;  it  was 
sadder  still  that  His  followers  should  be  blunted 
to  that  hunger.  We  all  know  that  the  Divine 
mercy  could  at  any  time  take  a  short  road  to  the 
Land  of  Canaan — could  send  showers  of  manna 
in  a  moment  and  banish  want  at  a  word.  That 
would  be  compassion  on  the  multitude,  but  not 
compassion  on  me.  The  multitude  would  have 
the  broken  bread ;  but  I  should  lose  the  breaking 
of  the  bread — the  greater  blessing  of  the  two.  Is 
it  not  written  as  Christ's  own  testimony,  "It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive "  ?  Shall 
mine  be  only  the  smaller  joy — the  joy  of  the 
world  as  distinguished  from  the  joy  of  the  Lord  ! 
Shall  I  have  only  the  gift  and  not  the  giving,  the 
bread  and  not  the  breaking,  the  share  and  not  the 
sharing !  Shall  the  luxury  of  ministration  be 
confined  to  the  heavens  !  Shall  it  be  only  angels 
that  wait  upon  man's  wilderness,  that  grieve  over 
man's  Gethsemane  !  Shall  all  the  luscious  fruits 
of  the  tree  of  life  be  on  the  other  side  of  death ! 
Shall  there  be  no  grapes  of  Eshcol  sent  to  me — no 
forecast  specimens  of  the  heavenly  joy!  Why 
appeal  to  father  Abraham  to  help  Dives!  Is 
288 


THE  VEILING  FROM  MAN  OF  DIVINE  ENERGY 

earth  to  have  no  share  in  the  inheritance  of  the 
saints  in  light!  Surely  the  privileges  of  the 
Christian  are  not  all  beyond  the  grave! 

Lord,  there  are  many  whom  Thou  canst  send  to 
the  Gentiles — the  impoverished  of  the  earth  ;  but 
send  me  !  Myriads  of  celestial  spirits  wait  to  do 
Thy  bidding  ;  but  send  me !  I  am  slower  in  hand 
and  feebler  in  heart  than  they;  yet  send  me! 
Send  me  because  I  am  slower  in  hand  and  feebler 
in  heart !  It  is  not  Thy  holy  angels  that  need  to 
be  trained  in  the  joys  of  Paradise ;  it  is  I.  Shall 
I  receive  no  message  in  the  language  of  heaven — 
the  language  of  sympathy !  Shall  all  Thy 
messages  of  mercy  be  carried  by  Gabriel  and 
Michael,  and  none  by  me  !  My  parents  send  me 
to  school  to  prepare  me  for  their  world;  hast 
Thou,  my  Father,  no  school  in  preparation  for 
Thine!  Is  it  not  well  that  when  I  look  upon 
distress  I  should  not  see  Thy  help  too  near !  If 
by  every  couch  of  pain  I  beheld  Thy  ministrant 
angel  I  should  never  learn  the  science  of 
sympathy.  I  thank  Thee  that  Thine  angels  are 
invisible.  I  thank  Thee  that  Thy  chariot  moves 
on  velvet  wheels.  I  thank  Thee  that  when  Thou 
risest  with  healing  in  Thy  wings  their  beating  is 
unheard  by  man.  I  thank  Thee  that  in  Thine 
hour  of  compassion  for  the  multitude  Thou  hast 
289  T 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

hid  Thy  hand :  it  has  made  room  for  mine.  Thy 
silence  has  been  my  speech  ;  Thy  withdrawal  has 
been  my  walking;  Thy  hiding  has  unveiled  my 
heart ;  Thy  resting  has  caused  me  to  run ;  Thy 
cloud  has  made  clear  my  mission ;  Thy  pause  has 
prompted  my  progress ;  Thine  absence  has  aided 
my  appearing;  the  shadow  over  Thy  face  has 
been  the  shining  of  mine.  I  bless  Thee,  O  Lord, 
that  Thou  hast  left  a  vacant  spot  for  me. 


290 


The  Lesson  which  Makes  Obedience 
Light 

"Though  He  were  a  Son,  yet  learned  He  obedience  by  tho 
things  which  He  suffered." — Heb.  v.  8. 

I  UNDERSTAND  the  meaning  to  be  that  Christ 
learned  the  value  of  obedience  from  the  adverse 
things  of  life.  The  common  view  as  to  the  value 
of  obedience  is  the  opposite ;  we  think  it  is  learned 
by  the  wearing  of  flowers.  A  father  very  com- 
monly says  to  his  son,  "  If  you  conduct  yourself 
as  I  desire,  I  will  give  you  a  handsome  allowance  ; 
when  you  transgress,  it  will  be  withdrawn."  His 
object  is  to  teach  his  son  obedience  by  making  him 
learn  the  value  of  luxuries.  But  here  it  is  the 
reverse;  the  Child-Jesus  is  taught  the  profit  of 
obedience  by  learning  the  value  of  life's  thorns. 
In  Chrisfs  experience  this  is  universally  true ;  the 
crown  of  His  obedience  has  come  from  His  cross. 
In  looking  back  He  feels  that  the  glory  of  sub- 
mission to  the  Father's  will  has  been  found  by 
Him,  not  in  reaping  the  fruits  of  Eden,  but  in 
291 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

reaping  the  fruits  of  Gethsemane — that  the  grain 
of  wheat  has  flourished  precisely  in  that  spot 
where  it  has  fallen  into  the  ground  and  died. 
But  we  imagine  this  to  be  something  abnormal, 
something  unique,  something  which  does  not 
apply  to  us.  In  truth  it  is  the  "  law  of  the 
spirit  of  life."  There  will  come  to  you  a  time 
here  or  elsewhere  when  you  will  learn  the  glory  of 
that  obedience  which  now  puts  you  under  a  cloud. 
But  it  is  the  cloud  that  will  teach  you  its  glory. 
You  look  back  on  the  hours  you  spent  in  an  office, 
ground  down  under  the  pressure  of  hard  work. 
What  is  your  verdict  ?  Do  you  say,  "  It  was 
worth  while  to  be  obedient  and  not  abandon  my 
career,  for  I  have  now  become  free  and  rich  and 
independent,  and  can  forget  all  the  hardships  of 
yesterday  "  ?  No,  rather  will  your  verdict  be  : 
"  It  was  worth  while  to  submit  to  hardships,  for 
these  hardships  have  made  me  a  man.  I  bless 
God  that  He  strengthened  me  to  bear  my  thorns, 
for  I  am  indebted  to  my  thorns  more  than  to  my 
roses.  It  is  the  briars  that  have  braced  me.  It  is 
the  storms  that  have  steadied  me.  It  is  the  nights 
that  have  nerved  me.  It  is  the  disappointments 
that  have  dowered  me.  It  is  the  losses  that  have 
leavened  me.  It  is  the  heart-aches  that  have 
humanised  me.  It  is  the  misadventures  that 
292 


THE  LESSON  WHICH  MAKES  OBEDIENCE  LIGHT 

have  made  me  manly.  It  is  the  buried  seeds  that 
have  given  me  bloom.  I  have  learned  the  glory 
of  obedience  by  the  things  v^hich  I  have  suffered." 
My  Father,  never  let  me  say  of  the  physical 
tares  of  life,  "  An  enemy  has  done  this  !  "  Never 
let  me  refuse  a  cup  because  it  is  bitter  nor  a  cross 
because  it  is  heavy  !  I  do  not  say,  "  Help  me  to 
believe  that  one  day  they  will  be  superseded !  "  I 
ask  a  deeper  faith  than  that ;  help  me  to  believe 
that  one  day  they  will  be  glorified  !  My  lot  has 
been  to  dwell  in  a  hut  amid  the  desert  sands,  and 
I  have  submitted  without  murmuring ;  I  have  felt 
that  obedience  was  my  duty.  But  I  hope  yet  to 
learn  that  obedience  was  my  glory.  How  shall  I 
learn  that,  O  my  Father  ?  Will  it  be  by  trans- 
ference to  Thy  house  with  many  mansions  ?  That 
would  not  vindicate  my  hours  of  privation;  it  would 
only  proclaim  a  release  from  the  days  of  school.  I 
want  better  than  that,  my  Father.  I  want  school 
itself  to  be  irradiated.  I  want  to  be  magnified  in 
the  things  which  I  have  suffered,  I  want  the  old 
hut  to  be  one  of  Thy  many  mansions.  I  want  to 
come  back  to  my  ancient  wilderness  and  find  it  a 
great  metropolis.  I  want  to  feel  that  my  residing 
there  has  something  to  do  with  the  change — 
that  I  planted  one  rose  which  blossomed,  shed  one 
beam  which  kindled,   brought  one  breeze  which 

293 


MESSAGES  OF  HOPE 

fanned  the  spark  of  life.  Build  up  my  waste 
places,  O  my  God  !  Crown  my  crosses ;  gild  my 
Gethsemanes ;  beautify  my  Bethanys ;  wreathe 
my  reverses ;  make  steps  of  my  sorrows  ;  bring 
treasures  from  my  trials  ;  strike  music  from  my 
mourning;  reveal  that  my  road  to  Paradise  was 
the  pathway  of  my  pain  !  I  shall  learn  the  glory 
of  obedience  when  I  see  my  desert's  bloom. 


-  i 


1 

Date  Due                       ••' 

MY  17 '4? 

■J  .'5 

"Itmam"' 

3UNJ)  ' 

^ 

